UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


I 


FRKD  M.  DEW  IT 

BOOKSELLER 
1008   TEI.EGHAPH    AVE. 


• 


ROD  AND    GUN  SERIES. 


DON    GORDON'S 


SHOOTING-BOX 


HARRY   CASTLEMON, 

IUTHOR    OF    "  THE    GUNBOAT    SERIES,"      "  BOY    TRAPPER    SERIES,1 
"  ROUGHING    IT    SERIES,"     ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA : 
PORTER    &    COATES. 


COPYRIGHT,    1883,    BY    PORTER   &   COATES. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

PAGE 
THE  MILITAKT  ACADEMY 5 

CHAPTER    II. 
DON  AND  BERT  AT  SCHOOL 18 

CHAPTER    III. 
a  A  "PLEBE"..  .  .    36 


CHAPTER    IV. 
THE  NEW  YORK  BOOT-BLACK 55 

CHAPTER   V. 
Dox  AND  BERT  HAVE  VISITORS 73 

CHAPTER   VI. 
CONY  RYAN'S  PANCAKES 92 

CHAPTER    VH. 
RUNNING  THE  GUARD Ill 

484O59 

LIBRARY 


iv  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

PAGE 

How  DON  GOT  IN 131 

CHAPTER    IX. 
DON'S  YANKEE  INVENTION 152 

CHAPTER   X. 
BREAKING  UP  THE  "  SET  " 173 

CHAPTER   XI. 
THE  STUDENTS  IN  CAMP 192 

CHAPTER    XII. 
THE  DESERTERS  AT  THE  SHOW 215 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
A  NIGHT  ATTACK 237 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX 260 

CHAPTER    XV. 
LESTER  BRIGHAM  MAKES  NEW  FRIENDS  . . ,  . .  285 


CHAPTER    XVI. 
THE  MAIL  CARRIER  IN  TROUBLE 307 

CHAPTER    XVII. 
CONCLUSION.  . .  . .  330 


DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE    MILITARY    ACADEMY. 

"  YTTELL,  now,  I  am  disgusted." 

"  So  am  I.     I  call  it  a  most  unusual  pro- 
ceeding." 

"  That  is  a  very  mild  term  to  be  applied  to  it. 
/  call  it  an  outrage.  The  Professor  has  deliber- 
ately gone  to  work  to  disgrace  the  school  and  every 
student  in  it." 

"  That's  my  opinion.  I  shall  give  my  father  a 
full  history  of  the  case  in  the  next  letter  I  write 
to  him ;  and  I  incline  to  the  belief  that  he  will 
order  me  to  pack  my  trunk  and  start  for  home." 

"  I  know  that  is  what  my  father  will  do.  Why, 
fellows,  just  think  of  it  for  a  moment !  What  if 
this  street  gamin,  who  has  been  brought  here  as 
the  Professor's  pet,  should  accidentally  win  a  war- 
rant at  the  next  examination  ?" 


6  DON  GOKDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  Or  a  commission  !  That  would  be  worse  yet. 
Wouldn't  a  gentleman's  son  look  nice  obeying  his 
orders — the  orders  of  a  bootblack  ?" 

"I'll  never  do  that.  I'll  stay  in  the  guard- 
house until  I  am  gray-headed  first." 

"  Well,  I  won't.     I'll  go  home  first." 

This  conversation  took  place  one  cold,  frosty 
morning  in  the  latter  part  of  January,  18 — ,  among 
the  members  of  a  little  party  of  boys  who  were 
walking  up  the  path  that  led  to  the  door  of  the 
Bridgeport  Military  Academy.  There  were  a  dozen 
of  them  in  all,  and  their  ages  varied  from  thirteen 
to  sixteen  years.  They  looked  like  young  soldiers, 
dressed  as  they  were  in  their  neat,  well-fitting 
uniforms  of  cadet  gray,  set  off  by  light  blue  trim- 
mings ;  but  it  seems  that  they  were  anything  but 
good  soldiers  just  then,  for  their  words  indicated  a 
determination  on  their  part  to  rebel  against  lawful 
authority. 

The  Bridgeport  Military  School  was  a  time- 
honored,  wealthy,  and  aristocratic  institution.  It 
was  modeled  after  the  school  at  "  the  Point,"  and 
although  its  course  of  study  differed  materially 
from  that  pursued  at  the  national  academy,  its 
rules  of  discipline  were  almost  the  same.  It  was 


THE    MILITARY    ACADEMY.  7 

intended  to  fit  boys  for  college,  for  business,  foi 
civil  or  mining  engineering,  or  for  West  Point,  if 
they  wanted  to  go  there  and  could  command  in- 
fluence enough  to  secure  the  appointment ;  and  in 
order  that  they  might  begin  early  in  life  to  realize 
the  majesty  and  dignity  of  law,  and  to  see  the 
necessity  of  submitting  to  it  as  becomes  good  citi- 
zens of  the  republic,  they  were  put  through  a 
course  of  military  drill  as  strict  as  that  to  which 
they  would  have  been  subjected  if  they  had  been 
private  soldiers  in  the  regular  army. 

The  majority  of  the  students — there  were  nearly 
three  hundred  of  them  in  all — were  deeply  in  love 
with  the  school,  and  with  every  body  and  every 
thing  connected  with  it.  Although  they  were 
obliged  to  study  hard  for  seven  months  in  the  year 
to  avoid  being  dropped  from  their  classes,  and  to 
watch  themselves  closely  in  order  to  keep  within 
the  rules,  they  were  allowed  two  seasons  of  rest 
and  recreation  during  the  year  ;  a  faithful  student 
could  always  obtain  a  pass  for  an  evening,  pro- 
vided his  standing  as  a  soldier  was  what  it  should 
be,  and  warrants  and  commissions  were  to  be  ob- 
tained by  anybody  who  was  willing  to  work  for 
them.  More  than  that,  the  institution  was  en- 


8  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

deared  to  them  by  a  thousand  old-time  associa- 
tions. The  fathers  of  some  of  the  present  students 
had  sat  in  those  same  seats,  pronounced  their 
orations  from  that  very  rostrum,  handled  those 
same  muskets  and  swords,  and  been  drilled  at  the 
identical  guns  that  still  composed  the  battery,  and 
their  sons  had  heard  them  speak  in  the  highest 
terms  of  the  benefits  derived  from  the  instructions 
they  had  there  received  during  the  days  of  their 
boyhood.  Under  these  circumstances  it  was  no 
wonder  that  the  students  took  pride  in  their  school, 
and  that  the  most  of  them  had  come  there  with 
the  determination  that  no  act  of  theirs  should  in 
any  way  detract  from  its  high  and  long-established 
reputation. 

But  if  these  were  the  sentiments  of  some  of  the 
boys,  there  was  a  small  but  busy  minority  who 
cherished  feelings  that  were  exactly  the  reverse — 
boys  who  had  been  sent  there  because  they  could 
not  be  controlled  at  home,  who  were  restive  under 
the  restraints  that  were  imposed  upon  them,  and 
whose  sole  object  was  to  complete  the  course  and 
get  away  from  the  school  with  as  little  trouble  to 
themselves  as  possible.  These  were  the  fellows 
who  were  always  in  trouble.  They  did  not  mind 


THE   MILITARY    ACADEMY.  9 

their  hard  lessons  so  much  as  they  did  the  fatigu- 
ing drills  with  muskets  and  broadswords.  They 
envied  the  officers  in  their  class  on  account  of  the 
authority  they  possessed,  the  extra  privileges  that 
fell  to  their  lot,  and  the  respect  they  demanded 
from  the  rest  of  the  students  ;  but  they  were  not 
willing  to  work  for  a  commission  themselves,  and 
they  did  not  like  those  who  were.  They  ran  the 
guard  at  every  opportunity  to  eat  pancakes  with 
Cony  Ryan,  who  was  quite  as  important  a  person- 
age at  Bridgeport  as  Benny  Havens  is,  or  used  to 
be,  at  West  Point,  and  did  penance  for  it  the  next 
Saturday  by  performing  extra  duty  as  sentries 
with  bricks  in  their  knapsacks.  When  they 
saluted  a  member  of  the  class  above  them,  as  the 
law  required  them  to  do,  they  did  it  in  a  very  sul- 
len and  ungracious  manner  ;  but  if  a  member  of 
the  class  below  them  neglected  his  duty  in  this 
respect,  they  were  prompt  to  take  him  to  task  for  it. 
The  two  meanest  boys  in  school  were  Tom 
Fisher  and  Clarence  Duncan,  who,  at  the  time 
our  story  opens,  had  been  members  of  the  academy 
just  two  years.  They  were  smart  enough  at  their 
books  and  stood  well  in  their  classes  when  they 
felt  in  the  humor  to  apply  themselves  ;  but  their 


10  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

record  as  soldiers  was  something  of  which,  they 
ought  to  have  been  ashamed.  Tom,  to  put  it  in 
plain  English,  was  a  sneak,  and  Clarence  was  a 
bully,  who  boasted  of  his  ability  to  whip  any  boy 
in  school.  These  boys  had  a  good  many  adherents 
among  the  students,  and  if  there  were  any  mis- 
chief done  about  the  village  it  was  pretty  certain 
to  be  traced  home  to  them. 

The  two  seasons  of  rest  and  recreation  of  which 
we  have  spoken  were  the  camping-out  frolic,  that 
came  off  in  August,  and  the  vacation,  which  began 
on  the  15th  of  September  and  continued  until  the 
15th  of  January.  Then  the  boys  went  home  to 
spend  the  holidays  and  show  their  uniforms. 
When  the  time  came  to  go  into  camp  no  one  was 
excused  except  upon  the  surgeon's  certificate  of 
disability.  In  fact  there  were  very  few  among 
them  who  ever  asked  to  be  excused.  Even  the 
most  studious  had  grown  tired  of  their  books  by 
this  time,  and  were  anxious  to  get  out  among  the 
hills  where  they  could  breathe  invigorating  air,  go 
trout-fishing  and  botanizing,  and  in  various  other 
ways  brace  up  their  nerves  in  readiness  for  the 
searching  examination  that  was  to  be  held  imme- 
diately on  their  return  to  the  academy. 


THE   MILITARY    ACADEMY.  11 

This  camp  was  intended  as  a  school  of  review. 
Theory  was  reduced  to  practice,  and  those  of  the 
students  who  kept  their  eyes  and  ears  open,  and 
tried  to  profit  by  the  instructions  there  received, 
were  almost  sure  to  pass  the  examination  with 
flying  colors.  The  civil  engineers  surveyed  the  bar 
in  the  river,  just  as  their  fathers  had  done  before 
them  ;  staked  out  the  best  route  for  a  canal 
around  the  falls,  and  laid  out  a  railroad  and  got 
everything  in  readiness  for  tunneling  the  hills  to 
let  it  through.  The  military  engineers,  under 
cover  of  a  hot  fire  of  blank  cartridges  from  the 
battery,  threw  pontoon  bridges  over  the  creek,  and 
when  they  were  finished,  the  infantry,  which  had 
been  concealed  in  a  ravine  close  by,  charged  across 
them  and  swarmed  up  the  opposite  heights  to  dis- 
lodge an  enemy  that  was  supposed  to  be  intrenched 
there.  They  fortified  the  hills  to  prevent  the  ap- 
proach of  an  invading  army,  sent  out  scouts  to 
scour  the  surrounding  country,  held  drumhead 
courts-martial,  and  tried  everybody  who  was  re- 
ported for  any  misdemeanor  ;  in  fact,  they  did 
everything  that  soldiers  do  when  they  are  in  the 
field. 

Perhaps  two  or  three  days  would  be  spent  in 


12  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

this  way,  and  then  there  would  come  two  or  three 
days  of  rest,  during  which  the  young  soldiers  would 
roam  about  the  woods  and  fields,  going  wherever 
their  fancy  led  them.  When  the  examination 
came  off,  the  graduates  were  presented  with  their 
diplomas  and  the  degrees  that  the  institution  was 
empowered  to  confer,  new  officers  were  appointed 
from  among  the  students,  the  classes  were  reor- 
ganized, new  applicants  were  received,  and  every- 
thing was  made  ready  for  work  at  the  beginning 
of  the  new  school  year. 

At  the  time  of  which  we  write  the  school  had 
been  in  session  about  two  weeks.  Two  hundred 
and  fifty  of  the  old  students  had  returned,  and 
the  places  of  the  large  number  who  were  gradu- 
ated at  the  close  of  the  last  term  were  filled  by 
the  second  class,  which  became  the  first ;  the  third 
became  the  second,  the  fourth  became  the  third, 
and  the  new  fourth  was  made  up  of  the  "  Plebes  " 
who  had  signed  the  muster-roll.  Why  the  new- 
comers were  called  "Plebes,"  which  is  short  for 
"plebeians,"  it  is  hard  to  tell.  Perhaps  it  was 
because  their  fathers,  in  the  days  of  their  boyhood, 
had  given  that  name  to  all  new  scholars,  or  it  may 
have  been  for  the  reason  that  everybody  was  down 


THE   MILITARY   ACADEMY.  13 

on  them.  They  certainly  looked  out  of  place  there. 
They  still  wore  their  citizens'  clothes,  the  uniforms 
for  which  they  had  been  measured  when  they  first 
arrived  not  having  yet  been  received.  They  were 
not  allowed  to  go  on  dress-parade  because  they 
could  not  handle  a  musket ;  and  as  they  had  not 
yet  been  "  broken  in,"  they  were  a  little  too  inde- 
pendent in  their  conduct  to  suit  the  old  students, 
who  exacted  the  greatest  show  of  respect  from 
those  who  were  below  them. 

Among  these  "  Plebes "  was  one  whose  advent 
created  the  profoundest  astonishment  among  some 
of  the  students.  The  boys  we  have  already  intro- 
duced to  the  reader  were  talking  about  him  as 
they  came  up  the  path.  They  were  Tom  Fisher 
and  his  crowd.  Having  drawn  the  capes  of  their 
overcoats  over  their  heads,  they  were  strolling 
leisurely  along,  paying  no  heed  to  the  cutting 
wind  that  swept  across  the  snow-covered  parade- 
ground  ;  but  the  thinly  clad  young  fellow  who 
came  up  the  path  behind  them  was  shivering  vio- 
lently under  its  influence.  His  hands  and  face 
were  blue  with  cold,  and  his  feet  were  so  poorly 
protected  that  he  was  obliged  to  stop  now  and 
then  and  stamp  them  on  the  ground  to  get  them 


14  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

warm.  The  noise  he  made  attracted  the  attention 
of  Tom  Fisher  and  his  companions,  who  turned  to 
see  what  had  occasioned  it. 

"  Here  he  comes  now,"  exclaimed  Dick  Hender- 
son, a  fair-haired,  sunny-faced  little  fellow,  whose 
mother  would  have  been  ashamed  of  him  if  she 
had  known  what  sort  of  company  he  was  keeping 
at  the  academy.  "  Say,  you  fellow,  where  are 
your  manners  ?" 

Only  one  short  year  ago  Dick  was  a  "  Plebe " 
himself;  but  now  he  was  a  third  class  boy,  and 
he  was  resolved  that  everybody  should  know  it 
and  treat  him  accordingly. 

"  Let  him  go,  Dick,"  said  Tom  Fisher,  in  a 
tone  of  disgust.  "  You  would  be  highly  honored 
by  a  salute  from  a  bootblack,  wouldn't  you, 
now  ?" 

"  Who  are  these  ?"  said  Clarence  Duncan,  in  a 
low  tone. 

Tom  and  his  crowd  looked  down  the  path  and 
saw  two  other  new-comers  approaching.  In  ap- 
pearance they  were  very  unlike  the  shivering,  half- 
frozen  boy  who  had  just  gone  along  the  path. 
They  were  warmly  clad,  wore  sealskin  caps  and 
gloves,  and  there  was  something  in  their  air  and 


THE   MILITARY   ACADEMY.  15 

bearing  that  proclaimed  them  to  be  boys  who  re- 
spected themselves,  and  who  intended  that  others 
should  respect  them.  One  of  them  was  tall  and 
broad-shouldered,  and  carried  himself  as  though 
he  had  never  been  in  the  habit  of  submitting  to 
any  nonsense,  and  the  other  was  small,  slender, 
and  apparently  delicate. 

"  Why,  they  are  the  Planter  and  his  brother," 
said  one  of  the  students,  all  of  whonr  had  had 
opportunity  to  learn  more  or  less  of  the  history 
of  the  boys  who  composed  the  fourth  class. 
"  They're  from  Mississippi.  Their  father  is  worth 
no  end  of  money,  and  they  say  he  gives  his  boys 
a  very  liberal  allowance." 

"  Then  they'll  be  good  fellows  to  foot  the  bills 
at  Cony  Ryan's,  will  they  not  ?"  said  Fisher. 

"  They  say  that  the  little  one  is  a  saint,"  chimed 
in  Dick  Henderson.  "He  never  does  anything 
wrong ;  but  his  brother  must  be  a  brick,  for  he 
was  expelled  from  the  last  school  he  attended  on 
account  of  some  violation  of  the  rules." 

"  Then  he's  the  fellow  for  us,"  said  Tom  Fisher. 
"  We  must  make  it  a  point  to  see  him  after  taps." 

The  near  approach  of  the  new-comers  cut  short 
the  conversation.  Tom  and  his  crowd  strolled 


16  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

leisurely  on,  filling  up  the  path  so  completely  that 
it  was  impossible  for  any  one  to  pass  them  without 
stepping  out  into  the  deep  snow  that  had  been 
thrown  up  on  each  side.  This  the  new  scholars 
did  not  seem  inclined  to  do.  The  smaller  one 
came  up  behind  Dick  Henderson,  and  placing  the 
back  of  his  hand  against  his  arm,  said  pleasantly : 

"  Will  you  be  good  enough  to  give  us  a  little 
room  ?" 

Tom  and  his  friends  faced  about  at  once,  and 
the  former  stepped  up  to  the  speaker  and  laid  his 
hand  rather  heavily  on  his  shoulder. 

"Look  here,  Plebe,"  said  he,  in  an  insolent 
tone.  "  '  Subordination  is  of  discipline  the  root  ; 
when  you  address  an  old  cadet,  forget  not  to  salute.' 
Mind  that  in  future." 

"  Take  your  hand  off  that  boy,  or  I  will  salute 
you  with  a  blow  in  the  face  that  will  bury  you 
out  of  sight  in  that  snowdrift,"  said  he  who  had 
been  called  the  "  Planter." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  demanded  Fisher. 

"Take  a  good  look  at  me  so  that  you  will 
remember  me,"  was  the  reply. 

The  boy  drew  off  his  gloves  and  pulled  down 
his  muffler,  revealing  the  familiar  features  of  our 


THE   MILITARY   ACADEMY.  17 

old  friend,  Don  Gordon.  Just  then  the  clear 
notes  of  a  bugle  rang  out  on  the  frosty  air.  It 
was  the  "  study  call/'  and  all  the  students  within 
hearing  made  haste  to  respond  to  it. 


CHAPTER  II. 

DON   AND   BERT   AT    SCHOOL. 

T|ON  GORDON  and  his  brother  Hubert  were 
two  of  the  heroes  of  the  Boy  Trapper  series. 
Those  who  have  met  them  before  will  not  need  to 
be  told  what  sort  of  boys  they  were  ;  and  strangers 
we  will  leave  to  do  as  the  boys  of  the  Bridgeport 
Academy  did — become  acquainted  with  them  by 
degrees.  They  lived  near  the  little  town  of  Roch- 
dale, in  the  State  of  Mississippi,  where  their 
father  owned  an  extensive  cotton  plantation. 
That  was  the  reason  why  the  students,  who  had 
a  new  name  for  every  new-comer,  called  Don  the 
Planter.  The  last  time  we  spoke  of  him  and 
Hubert  was  in  connection  with  the  building  of  a 
Shooting-Box  on  the  site  of  the  one  that  had  been 
burned  by  Bob  Owens  and  Lester  Brigham.  We 
thv-n  informed  the  reader  that  the  new  structure 
was  much  better  than  the  old  one,  and  that  is  all 
we  shall  say  about  it  until  such  time  as  the  owners 
get  ready  to  take  possession  of  it. 

After  Bob  Owens  ran  away  from  home  to  be- 


DON   AND   BERT   AT    SCHOOL.  19 

come  a  hunter,  and  Godfrey  Evans  and  his  son 
Dan  went  to  work  to  earn  an  honest  living,  and 
David  Evans  became  mail  carrier,  and  Lester 
Brigham  withdrew  himself  from  the  society  of  the 
boys  in  the  neighborhood,  the  inhabitants  of  Koch- 
dale  and  the  surrounding  country  settled  back 
into  their  old  ways,  and  waited  for  something  to 
happen  that  would  create  an  excitement.  They 
marveled  greatly  at  the  sudden  change  that  had 
taken  place  in  Godfrey  and  Dan,  talked  of  the 
indomitable  courage  Bob  Owens  had  displayed  on 
the  night  the  steamer  Sam  Kendall  was  burned, 
and  cast  jealous  eyes  upon  David  Evans,  who, 
they  thought,  was  making  money  a  little  too  rap- 
idly, and  throwing  on  a  few  more  airs  than  were 
becoming  in  a  boy  who  had  a  woodchopper,  and  a 
lazy  and  worthless  one  at  that,  for  a  father. 

Rochdale  was  like  some  other  country  towns 
that  you  may  have  heard  of.  The  people,  most 
of  whom  had  been  impoverished  by  the  war,  were 
envious  of  one  another,  though  outwardly  they 
were  friendly,  and  all  one  had  to  do  to  gain  ene- 
mies was  to  be  successful.  If  he  made  money  one 
year  by  planting  potatoes,  when  the  next  season 
came  around  everybody  planted  potatoes.  If  he 


20  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

set  up  a  blacksmith  shop  or  opened  a  store,  and 
seemed  to  be  prospering,  some  one  was  sure  to 
start  opposition  to  him.  When  David  Evans 
began  riding  the  mail  route  for  Don  Gordon's 
father,  who  had  the  contract,  and  exchanged  his 
rags  for  warm  and  durable  clothing,  and  purchased 
a  fine  horse  for  himself,  there  were  a  good  many 
who  thought  that  he  was  getting  on  in  the  world 
altogether  too  fast.  His  most  bitter  enemy  was 
Mr.  Owens,  who  had  tried  so  hard  to  secure  the 
contract  for  his  son  Bob,  the  runaway.  He  gen- 
erally rode  a  very  dilapidated  specimen  of  horse- 
flesh, and  whenever  David  passed  him  on  the 
road,  mounted  on  his  high-stepping  colt,  Mr. 
Owens  always  felt  as  though  he  wanted  to  knock 
him  out  of  his  saddle. 

"Just  look  at  that  beggar  on  horseback!"  he 
would  say  to  himself.  "  Things  have  come  to  a 
pretty  pass  when  white  trash  like  that  can  hold 
their  heads  so  high  in  the  air.  If  it  hadn't  been 
for  him  and  that  meddlesome  Gordon,  Bob  might 
have  been  riding  that  route  now  instead  of  roam- 
ing about  the  world,  nobody  knows  where.  If  the 
opportunity  ever  presents  itself  I'll  get  even  with 
both  of  them  for  that  piece  of  business." 


DON   AND   BERT   AT   SCHOOL.  21 

As  for  Don  and  Bert,  they  hardly  knaw  what 
to  do  with  themselves.  Their  private  tutor  left 
them — being  a  Northern  man  he  could  not  stand 
the  climate — and  then  they  were  as  uneasy  as 
fish  out  of  their  native  element.  They  galloped 
their  ponies  about  the  country  in  search  of  ad- 
venture, paddled  around  the  lake  in  their  canoe, 
roamed  listlessly  through  the  woods  with  their 
guns  in  their  hands  ;  in  short,  to  quote  from  Don, 
they  became  as  shiftless  and  of  as  little  use  in  the 
world  as  ever  Godfrey  Evans  had  been." 

"  I  don't  at  all  like  this  thing,"  the  general  one 
day  said  to  his  wife,  "  and  there  must  be  a  stop 
put  to  it.  The  boys  will  grow  up  as  ignorant 
as  the  negroes.  I  shall  pack  them  both  off  to 
school." 

Mrs.  Gordon  thought  of  the  way  in  which  Don 
had  conducted  himself  at  the  last  school  he  at- 
tended (he  had  been  expelled  from  it  on  account 
of  the  "  scrapes "  that  his  inordinate  love  of  mis- 
chief brought  him  into),  and  made  no  reply. 

"  I  have  not  forgotten  that  unfortunate  occur- 
rence," said  the  general,  who  well  knew  what  was 
passing  in  his  wife's  mind.  "  But  I  think  it  was 
a  lesson  to  Don,  and  one  that  will  never  fade  from 


22  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

his  memory.  Being  blessed  with  wonderful  health 
and  strength,  he  is  fairly  overflowing  with  animal 
spirits,  and  some  of  his  surplus  energy  must  be 
worked  oif  in  some  way.  I'll  put  him  where  he 
will  be  held  with  his  nose  close  to  the  grindstone. 
I'll  send  him  to  Bridgeport." 

"  Do  you  think  he  can  endure  the  discipline  ?" 
asked  the  anxious  mother,  who  knew  how  easily 
Don  could  be  governed  by  kindness,  and  how 
obstinate  he  was  under  harsh  treatment. 

"  He'll  have  to ;  it  is  just  what  he  needs.  After 
he  has  spent  six  hours  in  racking  his  brain  over 
the  hardest  kind  of  problems  in  mathematics,  and 
two  hours  and  a  half  more  in  handling  muskets 
and  broadswords  under  the  eye  of  a  strict  drill- 
master,  he  will  feel  more  like  going  to  bed  than 
he  will  like  running  the  guard  to  eat  Cony  Ryan's 
pancakes  and  drink  his  sour  buttermilk.  I  know, 
for  I  have  been  right  there." 

When  General  Gordon  once  made  up  his  mind 
to  a  course  of  action  he  lost  no  time  in  carrying  it 
into  effect.  Before  the  week  was  passed  he  and 
his  two  boys  were  on  their  way  to  Bridgeport, 
where  they  arrived  in  time  to  learn  something 
of  the  life  the  students  led  while  they  were  in 


DON    AND   BERT   AT   SCHOOL.  23 

camp.  The  veteran  superintendent  welcomed  the 
general  as  an  old  friend  and  pupil,  received  him 
and  his  boys  into  his  marquee,  and  took  pains  to 
see  that  the  latter  made  some  agreeable  acquaint- 
ances among  the  members  of  the  first  class,  who 
showed  them  every  thing  there  was  to  be  seen. 
Bert  did  not  have  much  to  say,  but  Don  was  all 
enthusiasm. 

"That's  the  school  for  me,"  said  he  to  his 
father  when  they  were  on  their  way  to  Rochdale, 
after  Don  and  Bert  had  passed  their  examination 
and  been  admitted  as  members  of  the  academy. 
"  How  nicely  those  fellows  were  drilled,  and  what 
good-natured  gentlemen  all  the  instructors  are! 
We  shall  have  easy  times  during  the  first  year. 
It  will  seem  like  play  for  me  to  go  back  to  the 
beginning  of  algebra  again." 

The  general  smiled,  but  said  nothing  until  they 
reached  home  and  the  boys  began  to  get  ready  to 
go  back  to  the  academy  at  the  beginning  of  the 
school  year.  Then  he  tried  to  make  them  under- 
stand that  "  easy  times "  were  entirely  unknown 
in  Bridgeport ;  that  the  instructors,  although 
they  were  "  good-natured "  enough  to  the  guests 
they  met  while  in  camp,  were  the  sternest  and 


24  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

most  inflexible  of  disciplinarians  in  the  barracks  ; 
and  that  there  was  as  wide  a  gulf  between  them 
and  the  students  as  there  was  between  the  officers 
and  privates  in  the  army.  Somehow  Don  could 
not  bring  himself  to  believe  it,  but  before  many 
months  more  had  pasvsed  over  his  head  he  found 
out  that  his  father  knew  what  he  was  talking 
about.  He  made  his  mother  the  most  solemn 
promises  in  regard  to  his  behavior,  assuring  her 
that  he  had  been  in  "  scrapes "  enough,  and  that 
henceforth  he  would  give  her  and  his  teachers 
no  trouble  ;  and  when  he  made  those  promises 
he  was  fully  resolved  to  live  up  to  them.  He  was 
then  entirely  unacquainted  with  the  temptations 
that  fell  to  the  lot  of  a  Bridgeport  student. 
Cony  .Ryan's  pancakes  and  surreptitious  sleigh- 
rides  had  no  charms  for  him,  neither  had  the 
guard-house  and  extra  duty  any  terrors,  because 
he  did  not  know  that  there  were  any  such  things. 
But  they  were  soon  brought  to  his  notice,  and 
perhaps  we  shall  see  how  he  kept  his  promises 
after  that. 

The  night  of  the  15th  of  January  found  Don 
and  Bert  installed  in  their  room  in  the  academy. 
It  was  large  enough  to  accommodate  two  single 


DON   AND   BERT    AT    SCHOOL.  25 

beds,  a  steam-heater,  a  washstand,  a  table,  and 
two  chairs.  At  the  foot  of  each  bed  was  a  small 
cupboard,  in  which  they  were  to  keep  their  uni- 
forms, after  they  got  them,  and  also  their  officers' 
swords,  if  they  were  fortunate  enough  to  win  them 
at  the  next  examination.  Bert  was  poring  over 
his  French  lesson,  while  Don,  who  was  more  than 
a  year  ahead  of  his  class  in  all  his  studies,  was  read- 
ing the  "  Rules  and  Regulations  "  that  hung  upon 
the  wall.  There  were  fifty  rooms  on  that  floor, 
all  occupied  by  boys  who  were  supposed  to  be 
studying  their  lessons  for  the  morrow.  The  only 
sound  that  broke  the  stillness  was  a  steady  tramp- 
ing in  the  hall. 

"I  wish  that  fellow,  whoever  he  is,  would  go 
into  his  room  and  keep  still,"  said  Bert,  after 
he  had  waited  a  long  time  for  the  tramping  to 
cease. 

"He'll  not  go  away  until  he  is  relieved,"  re- 
plied Don.  "  He  is  a  sentry.  I  have  just  been 
reading  about  him.  He  has  charge  of  all  the 
rooms  on  this  floor,  and  it  is  his  duty  to  suppress 
all  loud  talking  or  laughing,  and  to  inspect  the 
rooms  occasionally  to  see  that  the  occupants  have 
not  slipped  out." 
2 


26  DON  GOKDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  Where  would  they  go  if  they  did  slip  out  ?" 
asked  Bert. 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  replied  Don,  as  he 
walked  up  to  the  heater  and  held  his  hands  over 
it.  "  Neither  do  I  see  why  one  should  want  to 
leave  a  comfortable  room  like  this  to  parade 
around  in  the  deep  snow,  even  if  there  were  a 
place  to  go  to  pass  the  evening.  It's  fearful  cold 
up  here  in  this  country,  isn't  it  ?" 

When  Don  and  Bert  left  their  Southern  home 
the  air  was  balmy,  the  birds  were  singing,  a  few 
early  flowers  were  beginning  to  bud  under  the 
genial  influence  of  the  sun,  and  they  earned  their 
overcoats  done  up  in  shawl-straps ;  but  long 
before  they  reached  their  journey's  end  they  had 
put  on  all  their  heaviest  clothing,  and  when  the 
train  brought  them  into  Bridgeport  they  found 
the  streets  blocked  with  snow,  and  the  river  cov- 
ered with  a  sheet  of  ice  that  was  fourteen  inches 
in  thickness.  The  dreary  winter  scene  that  met 
their  gaze  every  time  they  looked  out  of  the 
academy  windows  made  them  shiver  involuntarily, 
and  it  was  no  wonder  that  they  wanted  to  hug 
the  fire. 

"Suppose    that    sentry  should    find    a    room 


DON   AND   BEET   AT    SCHOOL.  27 

empty  when  he  looked  into  it  ?"  said  Bert,  with- 
out replying  to  his  brother's  question.  "What 
then  ?" 

"It  would  be  his  duty  to  report  the  owners/' 
said  Don. 

"  That  looks  almost  too  much  like  tale-bearing," 
answered  Bert.  "  I  don't  like  the  idea  ;  do  you  ?" 

"  No,  I  don't ;  but  what  is  a  fellow  to  do  about 
it  ?  If  it  ever  comes  our  turn  to  stand  sentry 
during  study  hours,  we  can  take  our  choice  be- 
tween doing  our  full  duty,  without  fear  or  favor, 
and  being  reported  and  punished  ourselves  for 
negligence.  I  know  what  my  choice  will  be.  If 
the  boys  don't  want  me  to  report  them,  they  must 
live  up  to  the  regulations." 

When  Don  said  this  he  meant  every  word  of 
it ;  but  after  he  had  been  at  the  academy  a 
few  weeks,  Bert  noticed  that  he  never  gave 
expression  to  such  ideas  as  these.  He  learned 
how  to  keep  his  back  turned  toward  a  room  when 
he  had  reason  to  believe  that  the  owners  desired 
to  "  take  French"  for  the  evening  ;  and  when  he  . 
was  certain  that  they  were  out  of  harm's  way,  he 
could  open  the  door  of  that  very  room,  and  without 
much  stretching  of  his  imagination  convert  the 


28  DON   GOEDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

"dummies"  that  occupied  the  beds  into  living, 
breathing  students.  It  soon  became  known  to  a 
certain  class  of  boys  that  the  Planter  was  a 
"  brick,"  who  would  rather  get  into  trouble  him- 
self than  report  any  of  his  schoolmates  ;  and  they 
were  not  slow  to  take  advantage  of  his  good- 
nature. That  was  the  term  the  students  applied 
to  his  neglect  of  duty ;  but  the  superintendent 
called  it  disobedience  of  orders,  and  Don  was 
punished  accordingly. 

"  What  was  that  noise  ?"  exclaimed  Bert,  sud- 
denly. 

"  It  sounded  like  a  drum,"  answered  Don. 

And  that  was  just  what  it  was.  A  couple  of 
drummers  were  walking  around  the  building,  every 
now  and  then  giving  their  instruments  a  single 
tap. 

"It  certainly  means  something,"  said  Bert, 
with  no  little  anxiety  in  his  tone  ;  "but  I  am  all 
in  the  dark." 

So  was  Don.  He  was  about  to  propose  that 
they  should  step  out  into  the  hall  and  ask  the 
sentry  to  enlighten  them,  when  the  door  suddenly 
opened  and  that  dreaded  functionary  thrust  his 
head  into  the  room. 


DON    AND    BERT    AT    SCHOOL.  29 

"  I  say,  Plebe,"  he  exclaimed,  nodding  to  Don, 
"  give  us  your  name,  will  you  ?" 

Don  wonderingly  complied,  and  the  sentry  drew 
a  note-book  from  his  pocket  and  wrote  something 
in  it. 

"  Very  unpleasant  piece  of  business,"  said  he, 
"but  it  can't  be  helped.  Orders  are  orders,  as 
you  will  find  before  you  have  been  here  a  great 
while.  Next  time  keep  your  ears  open." 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter  ?"  inquired  Don. 
"  Have  we  done  anything  wrong  ?" 

u  I  should  say  so.  Why  didn't  you  douse  your 
glim  ?  Did  you  not  hear  the  signal  ?" 

"  We  heard  a  drum,  if  that's  what  you  mean," 
said  Bert. 

"That  was  'taps/  and  it  meant  'lights  out.' 
Put  that  lamp  out  at  once." 

"  We'll  do  it  just  as  soon  as  we  get  ready  for 
bed,"  replied  Bert,  jumping  up  and  pulling  off  his 
coat. 

"  Put  it  out,  I  tell  you,"  exclaimed  the  sentry. 
"  Put  it  out  now,  and  undress  in  the  dark,  as  the 
rest  of  the  fellows  do.  You  had  better  take  my 
advice  and  slumber  lightly,  for  after  the  morning 
gun  is  fired  you  will  have  just  six  minutes  in 


30     DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

which  to  get  into  your  clothes  and  fall  in  for  roll- 
call.  Pleasant  dreams." 

"  Humph  !"  said  Bert,  as  the  sentry  closed  the 
door  and  went  out  into  the  hall  to  inspect  the 
other  rooms.  "  Plow  can  a  fellow's  dreams  be 
pleasant  when  he  knows  that  he  is  going  to  be 
reported  in  the  morning  ?  This  is  a  bad  begin- 
ning, Don.  Although  we  have  not  been  here 
twenty-four  hours,  we  have  got  ourselves  into 
trouble  already." 

This  reflection  worried  Bert,  who  always  tried 
hard  to  obey  the  rules  of  the  school  he  attended, 
and  considered  himself  disgraced  if  he  were  taken 
to  task  for  violating  any  of  them  ;  but  it  had  no 
more  effect  upon  Don  than  water  has  on  a  duck's 
back.  He  tumbled  into  bed  and  slept  soundly, 
while  Bert,  who  was  very  much  afraid  that  he 
might  not  hear  the  morning  gun,  lay  awake 
during  the  greater  part  of  the  night.  Toward 
morning  he  sank  into  a  troubled  slumber,  from 
which  the  solemn  booming  of  the  field-piece 
aroused  him. 

He  and  Don  were  out  on  the  floor  and  putting 
on  their  clothes  before  the  deep-toned  reverbera- 
tions that  came  from  the  hills  on  the  other  side 


DON   AND   BERT   AT    SCHOOL.  31 

of  the  river  had  fairly  died  away.  There  was  no 
time  lost  in  stretching  and  yawning — not  a  second 
wasted  in  waking  up.  The  drums  were  beating 
in  the  drill-room,  and  the  fifes  were  shrilly  piping 
forth  the  first  strains  of  the  •  three  tunes  that 
constituted  the  morning  call.  Before  the  second 
tune  was  finished,  Don  and  Bert,  following  the 
lead  of  the  crowd  of  students  they  found  in  the 
hall,  ran  into  the  drill-room  and  took  their  places 
in  line. 

There  were  four  companies  in  all,  each  one 
numbering,  when  the  school  was  full,  seventy-five 
members.  They  were  all  officered  by  boys,  the 
highest  in  rank  being  the  lieutenant-colonel,  while 
the  superintendent  of  the  academy,  or  one  of  the 
instructors,  acted  as  commandant  of  the  battalion. 
The  companies  were  drawn  up  on  the  four  sides 
of  the  spacious  drill-room,  in  which  all  the  bat- 
talion and  company  exercises  and  ceremonies  were 
held  during  bad  weather,  the  members  standing 
at  "parade  rest."  In  front  of  each  company 
stood  the  upright,  soldierly  figure  of  the  first 
sergeant,  note-book  in  hand.  Behind  him  stood 
his  boy  captain,  while  the  officer  of  the  day,  his 
arms  folded  across  his  breast,  critically  surveyed 


32  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

the  scene  from  his  post  near  the  door.  The  in- 
stant the  last  notes  of  the  reveille  died  away 
business  commenced. 

"  Attention,  company !"  shouted  all  the  first 
sergeants  in  a  breath  ;  whereupon  the  students 
brought  their  heels  in  line,  dropped  their  hands 
by  their  side,  turned  their  eyes  to  the  front,  and 
assumed  the  position  of  a  soldier. 

The  roll  was  called  in  less  than  two  minutes, 
and  after  the  first  sergeants  had  reported  to  their 
captains,  and  the  captains  had  reported  to  the 
adjutant,  and  the  adjutant  had  reported  to  the 
officer  of  the  day,  whose  duty  it  was  to  report 
the  absentees  to  the  superintendent,  the  guards 
for  the  day  were  detailed,  the  ranks  were  broken, 
and  the  students  hurried  away  to  wash  their  hands 
and  faces,  comb  their  hair,  and  put  their  rooms  in 
order  for  morning  inspection.  After  that  came 
two  hours  of  hard  study.  Then  the  sick-call  was 
sounded,  followed  shortly  afterward  by  the  en- 
livening strains  of  "Peas  upon  the  Trencher," 
which  was  the  summons  to  breakfast.  The  dif- 
ferent companies  were  marched  to  and  from  the 
dining-hall  by  their  quartermaster-sergeants,  and 
when  the  ranks  were  broken  the  students  were 


DON    AND    BERT    AT    SCHOOL.  33 

allowed  an  hour  to  "  brush  up  "  on  their  lessons  for 
the  day,  or  to  stroll  about  the  grounds  and  watch 
guard-mount.  At  nine  o'clock  the  bugle  called 
them  to  their  respective  recitation-rooms,  and 
from  that  time  until  one  they  were  kept  at  work 
at  their  books.  After  dinner  an  hour  was  allowed 
for  rest  and  recreation.  From  two  until  half-past 
three  there  were  more  recitations,  followed  by  a 
long  and  fatiguing  drill,  and  then  liberty  until 
sunset.  Then  came  the  dress-parade  of  the  bat- 
talion ;  and  when  that  was  ended  the  day's  work 
was  over  with  everybody  except  the  guards  and 
those  who  were  behind  with  their  lessons  for  the 
next  day.  After  supper  and  another  hour  of  rec- 
reation, the  bugle  called  "  to  quarters,"  and  that 
was  a  sound  that  nobody  liked  to  hear.  It  meant 
that  all  the  fun  was  over  for  that  day,  that  every 
boy  must  go  to  his  room  at  once  and  keep  quiet 
after  he  got  there,  under  penalty  of  being  reported 
by  the  sentry  who  had  charge  of  that  floor. 

After  this  description  of  the  routine  of  study 
and  drill  that  was  pursued  at  the  academy,  the 
reader  will  understand  how  Don  Gordon  passed 
the  most  of  his  school-days  during  the  next  fonr 
years.  How  he  passed  his  vacations  it  is  the  pur- 


34  DON    GORDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX. 

pose  of  this  series  of  books  to  relate.  It  will  be 
seen  also  that  he  was  allowed  very  little  time  in 
which  to  study  up  plans  for  mischief.  In  fact  he 
did  not  think  of  such  a  thing  yet,  for  he  had  come 
there  firmly  resolved  to  do  his  best,  and  to  win  a 
record  for  himself  that  his  father  should  be  proud 
of ;  but  still  he  did  feel  very  revengeful  while  he 
and  his  brother  were  standing  in  front  of  the 
superintendent's  desk,  listening  to  the  sharp  rep- 
rimand that  was  administered  to  them  for  neglect- 
ing to  extinguish  their  light  at  taps.  This  was 
the  same  "good-natured  gentleman"  who  had 
greeted  them  and  their  father  so  cordially  when 
they  visited  his  camp  during  the  previous  summer, 
but  he  did  not  talk  as  he  did  then.  He  used  cut- 
ting words,  and  laid  down  the  law  in  tones  that 
had  made  more  than  one  culprit  tremble.  Don 
did  not  mind  it  in  the  least,  for  he  was  used  to 
being  scolded  by  his  teachers  ;  but  when  he  saw 
how  Bert  took  it  to  heart,  he  became  so  angry 
that  he  could  hardly  hold  his  peace. 

"  That's  just  the  kind  of  a  man  that  I  like  to 
get  the  advantage  of,"  said  he  to  himself ;  "  and  if 
I  had  a  few  good  fellows  to  help  me,  I  would  set 
him  and  his  rules  at  defiance.  I  just  know  I  could 


DON    AND   BERT    AT    SCHOOL.  35 

slip  out  of  my  room  and  get  off  the  grounds  at 
night ;  and  if  I  had  any  place  to  go  to  spend  the 
evening,  I  would  try  it  and  see  what  he  would  do 
about  it." 

Don  made  this  up  all  out  of  his  own  head.  He 
had  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  as  running  the 
guard,  and  he  thought  of  it  now  simply  as  a 
daring  exploit,  and  one  that  he  would  undertake 
without  a  moment's  hesitation  if  there  were  any- 
thing to  be  gained  by  it.  He  was  in  just  the 
right  humor  to  be  manipulated  by  such  fellows  as 
Fisher  and  Duncan  ;  and  into  their  hands  he  fell 
before  he  had  worn  the  academy  uniform  forty- 
eight  hours.  They  took  him  up  because  they 
hated  him  and  wanted  to  get  him  into  trouble, 
and  it  was  only  by  an  unexpected  stroke  of  good  for- 
tune that  he  escaped  from  their  clutches.  What 
he  did  to  arouse  their  animosity  shall  be  told  fur- 
ther on. 


CHAPTER   III. 

HAZING     A     "PLEBE." 

"  TyE'LL  settle  with  you  at  some  future  time 
my  fine  gentleman/'  said  Tom  Fisher,  a 
he  and  his  companions  ran  toward  the  academy  ii 
obedience  to  the  call  of  the  bugle.  They  ha( 
spent  the  hour  after  breakfast  in  strolling  abou 
the  grounds,  discussing  the  history  of  one  of  thi 
new  students,  as  we  have  related  in  the  firs 
chapter. 

"  All  right,"  replied  Don  Gordon,  winking  a 
his  brother,  who  laid  his  finger  on  his  lips  anc 
shook  his  head  warningly.  "  Whenever  you  wan* 
to  see  me  just  send  me  word,  and  I  will  be  or 
hand." 

"  You  may  get  some  of  that  independence 
whipped  out  of  you  before  you  have  been  here 
many  more  days,"  chimed  in  Clarence  Duncan. 

"Who'll  do  it  ?"  asked  Don,  cheerfully. 

"/  will,"  replied  Duncan,  in  savage  tones. 

"  0,  you  can't.     It's  bred  in  the  bone.     But  I'D 


HAZING    A    "PLEBE."'  37 

tell  you  one  thing — you  and  your  partner  there," 
added  Don,  nodding  his  head  toward  Tom  Fisher. 
"  You  want  to  keep  your  hands  off  my  brother,  or 
I'll  make  spread-eagles  of  the  pair  of  you." 

"  Well,  that  beats  anything  I  ever  heard  of !" 
exclaimed  Dick  Henderson,  opening  his  eyes  in 
surprise.  "  You  have  good  cheek  to  talk  of  mak- 
ing '  spread-eagles '  of  such  fellows  as  Fisher  and 
Duncan,  haven't  you,  now  ?" 

"  Do  you  think  so,  little  one  ?"  asked  Don.  As 
he  said  this  he  patted  Dick  on  the  head  in  a  most 
patronizing  way — an  action  on  his  part  that 
caused  Dick  to  jump  aside  and  bristle  up  like  a 
bantam  that  had  been  poked  with  a  stick. 
"  Well,  you  hang  around  and  you  will  see  it 
done,  unless  they  take  my  advice  and  mind  their 
own  business,"  added  Don. 

Fisher  and  Duncan  did  not  have  an  oppor- 
tunity to  reply  to  this  threat,  for  just  then  they 
reached  the  door  and  found  one  of  the  teachers 
standing  there.  They  were  somewhat  behind 
time,  and  they  were  obliged  to  hasten  to  their 
dormitories  and  take  off  their  caps  and  overcoats 
so  that  they  could  march  to  their  recitation- 
rooms  with  their  classes.  They  looked  daggers  at 


38  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

Don  as  they  went  up  the  stairs,  but  he  smiled 
back  at  them  in  the  most  unconcerned  manner 
possible. 

"  I  knew  he  was  a  tough  one  the  moment  I  put 
my  eyes  on  him/'  said  Fisher  that  night  after  drill 
hours,  when  he  and  about  fifty  other  students 
were  exercising  their  muscles  in  the  gymnasium. 
"There  isn't  another  fellow  in  school  who  can 
do  that." 

The  subject  of  these  remarks  was  Don  Gordon, 
who  had  just  come  out  dressed  in  neat  dark-blue 
trunks  and  flesh-colored  tights.  His  arms  were 
bare  to  the  shoulder,  revealing  muscles  at  which 
the  boys  around  him  gazed  in  admiration.  His 
first  act  was  to  walk  up  to  the  nearest  swing,  take 
hold  of  one  of  the  rings  and  draw  himself  up  to 
his  chin  twice  in  succession  with  one  hand. 

"I  tell  you,  Duncan,  you  had  better  let  him 
alone,"  continued  Fisher,  still  watching  Don,  who 
was  now  going  hand  over  hand  up  a  rope  toward 
the  lofty  ceiling. 

"  And  swallow  everything  he  said  to  me  this 
morning  ?"  exclaimed  the  bully. 

"  No,  I  didn't  mean  that,"  Fisher  hastened  to 
reply.  "  Those  insulting  remarks  must  of  course 


HAZING   A    "PLEBE."  39 

be  taken  back  and  apologized  for ;  but  you  can't 
make  him  do  it  alone." 

"  Just  give  me  tlie  chance,  and  I'll  show  you 
whether  I  can  or  not,"  answered  Duncan,  who 
was  always  angry  whenever  there  was  any  impu- 
tation cast  upon  his  prowess.  "He  has  come 
here  intending  to  set  at  naught  all  the  old-time 
customs  of  the  institution — haven't  you  noticed 
how  persistently  he  refuses  to  salute  everybody  but 
an  officer  ? — and  if  we  are  willing  to  stand  by  and 
let  him  do  it,  I  say  we  are  a  pack  of  cowards.  He 
must  be  made  to  come  down  from  his  high  horse." 

"  And  he  shall  be,"  said  Fisher,  encouragingly. 
"We  will  attend  to  that  bootblack's  case  to- 
night, and  the  first  good  chance  we  get  we'll  take 
Mr.  Gordon  in  hand.  By  the  way,  Duncan " 

The  two  boys  drew  off  on  one  side  and  entered 
into  a  whispered  consultation,  now  and  then  beck- 
oning to  one  or  another  of  their  friends,  until 
there  were  a  dozen  or  more  students  gathered 
about  them.  They  conversed  earnestly  together 
for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  put  on  their  clothes 
and  left  the  gymnasium.  Don  and  Bert  Gordon 
followed  them  soon  after,  and  on  giving  their 
names  to  the  orderly  in  the  hall,  were  admitted  to 


40  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

the  presence  of  the  superintendent.     After  they 
had  both  saluted  him,  Don  said  : 

"Colonel,  we  have  brought  with  us  a  letter  of 
introduction  from  our  father,  addressed  to  Mr. 
Packard,  who  is  a  relative  of  one  of  our  nearest 
neighbors,  and  if  you  have  no  objections  we  should 
like  permission  to  present  it  to-night." 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  superintendent,  as  he 
picked  up  a  pen  and  pulled  a  sheet  ot  paper 
toward  him.  "You  can  go  immediately  after 
supper,  and  I  will  write  you  a  pass.  You  ought 
to  have  presented  it  when  you  first  came.  Why 
did  you  put  it  off  so  long  ?" 

"  Why — I — you  know,  sir,  that  we  received  a 
reprimand  on  the  morning  following  our  arrival 
here  for  not  putting  out  our  light  at  ten  o'clock," 
faltered  Don,  "  and  I  was  afraid  you  would  think 
we  ought  to  stay  inside  the  grounds  until  we  had 
learned  to  obey  the  rules." 

"Ah,  yes,"  said  the  superintendent  with  a 
smile.  "I  believe  I  remember  something  about 
that.  Well,  it  did  you  good,  did  it  not  ?  You 
haven't  been  reported  since.  I  hope  your  record 
at  the  end  of  your  course  will  be  as  good  as  that 
of  your  father,  who,  I  must  say,  was  a  very 


HAZING   A    "PLEBE."  41 

exemplary  student.  It  is  true  that  he  did  run 
the  guard  now  and  then,  the  temptations  at  Cony 
Ryan's  proving  rather  too  strong  for  him ;  and 
when  he  was  here  with  you  last  August,  I  think 
lie  told  me  that  while  he  was  a  member  of  my 
school  he  spent  forty- three  Saturdays  in  walking 
extras  ;  but,  for  all  that,  he  was  a  good  boy — a 
very  good  boy.  Here's  your  pass." 

Don  expressed  his  thanks  for  the  favor,  and  he 
and  Bert  saluted  and  retired,  lost  in  wonder. 

"  Running  the  guard  !"  repeated  the  former,  in 
a  loud  tone.  "  What  does  that  mean  ?" 

"  What's  walking  an  extra  ?"  said  Bert,  in  the 
same  low  voice  ;  "  and  who  is  Cony  Ryan  ?" 
"  Here  comes  Egan  ;  we'll  ask  him,"  said  Don. 
The  individual  referred  to  was  a  first-class  boy, 
and  the  first  sergeant  of  Don's  company.     When 
he  was  on  duty  he  was  a  soldier  all  over  ;   but 
during  the  hours  of  recreation  he  was  as  jovial 
and  friendly  a  fellow  as  there  was  to  be  found 
about  the  academy. 

"  S.iy,  sergeant,"  said  Don,  not  forgetting  to 
salute,  "  what  does  a  cadet  do  when  he  runs  the 
guard  ?" 

"  What  does  he  do  ?"   repeated   the   sergeant. 


42  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"Why,  he  spends  a  good  portion  of  the  next 
Saturday  afternoon  in  walking  an  extra  to  pay  for 
it." 

"  I  mean,  how  does  he  run  the  guard  ?"  ex- 
plained Don. 

"  Now,  Gordon,  isn't  that  just  the  least  bit — 
you  know,"  said  the  sergeant,  laying  his  finger  by 
the  side  of  his  nose  and  looking  very  wise.  "  You 
surely  don't  expect  me  to  tell  you  how  it  is  done, 
do  you  ?  You  had  better  ask  Fisher  or  Duncan, 
or  some  of  that  crowd.  They  have  had  consider- 
able experience  in  it." 

"  We  want  to  know  what  the  meaning  of  the 
expression  is,"  said  Bert. 

"  O,  that's  it !  Well,  when  a  fellow  slips  out 
of  his  room,  gets  off  the  grounds  without  being 
caught,  and  comes  back  in  the  morning  in  time  to 
fall  in  and  answer  to  roll-call,  we  call  that  run- 
ning the  guard.  By  walking  an  extra  we  mean 
doing  additional  guard  duty.  The  reason  that 
Saturday  is  selected  as  a  day  of  punishment  is 
because  the  afternoon  is  given  over  almost  entirely 
to  recreation ;  but  those  who  have  been  arrested 
while  attempting  to  run  the  guard,  or  who  have 
been  caught  in  other  acts  of  disobedience,  are  not 


HAZING   A    "PLEBE."  43 

allowed  to  take  advantage  of  those  hours  of  recre- 
ation, because  they  have  already  had  their  fun. 
Understand  ?" 

Don  said  he  did  ;  and  then  he  inquired  who 
Cony  Ryan  was,  and  what  he  did  to  tempt  the 
boys. 

"  Cony  Ryan !"  repeated  the  sergeant,  his  eyes 
growing  brighter  and  a  smile  overspreading  his 
face,  as  the  memory  of  old  times  came  back  to 
him.  "  Why,  he  is  a  part  of  the  academy,  and  I 
have  seen  the  day  when  I  thought  we  could  not 
possibly  get  along  without  him.  He  keeps  a  neat 
little  house  down  by  the  big  pond,  where  he  serves 
up  the  best  pancakes  /  ever  ate.  His  mince  and 
pumpkin  pies  top  the  heap  ;  and  as  for  his  maple 
molasses — ah  !" 

The  sergeant  walked  off,  smacking  his  lips,  and 
Don  and  Bert  kept  on  up  the  stairs. 

"  I  rather  think  Egan  has  been  there,"  observed 
the  latter. 

"  I  know  he  has/'  replied  Don,  "  and  the  taste 
of  that  maple  syrup  clings  to  his  palate  yet." 

On  entering  their  room  Don  threw  himself  into 
a  chair,  stretched  his  legs  out  before  him,  buried 
his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  gazed  down  at  the 


44  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

floor  in  a  brown  study  ;  while  Bert  leaned  his 
elbows  on  the  table,  rested  his  chin  on  his  hands, 
and  looked  at  him.  Presently  Don  threw  back 
his  head  and  laughed  so  loudly  and  heartily  that 
his  brother  was  obliged  to  laugh  too. 

"  I  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing,"  said  Bert, 
who  knew  what  was  passing  in  Don's  mind. 

"  No  more  did  I.  Just  think  how  that  dignified 
father  of  ours  must  have  looked  running  the 
guard  and  standing  punishment  for  it  afterward  ! 
He  took  good  care  not  to  say  a  word  to  us  about 
it,  didn't  he  ?  I  say,  Bert,"  exclaimed  Don,  sud- 
denly, and  then  he  as  suddenly  paused. 

"  Don't  you  do  it,"  said  Bert,  earnestly.  u  You 
will  be  certain  to  get  yourself  into  trouble  by  it." 

"HI  did,  I  should  be  perfectly  willing  to  take 
the  consequences.  But  father  couldn't  haul  me 
over  the  coals  for  it,  could  he  ?" 

"If  father  were  here  now,  he  wouldn't  think  of 
doing  such  things." 

"  Neither  would  I  if  I  were  a  man." 

"  But  you  won't  go  to  Cony  Ryan's,  will  you  ?" 
pleaded  Bert. 

"  Of  course  not.  Don't  borrow  any  trouble  on 
that  score.  I  promised  mother  that  I  would 


HAZING    A    "  PLEBE."  45 

behave  myself,  and  I  am  going  to  do  it.  But  I 
should  like  to  taste  those  pies  and  pancakes,  all 
the  same,"  added  Don,  to  himself. 

That  evening,  after  supper,  Don  and  Bert 
showed  their  pass  to  the  sentry  at  the  gate,  and 
set  out  to  pay  their  long  deferred  visit  to  Mr. 
Packard.  Why  was  it  that  they  did  not  think  to 
read  that  pass  w"nen  it  was  given  to  them  ?  If 
they  had,  they  might  have  saved  themselves  from 
something  disagreeable  that  afterward  happened. 
They  passed  a  very  pleasant  evening  at  Mr.  Pack- 
ard's house,  and  at  half-past  ten  they  took  leave 
of  their  new  friends  and  started  for  the  academy. 

As  they  were  walking  briskly  along  the  road 
that  ran  around  one  end  of  the  big  pond,  they 
heard  an  indistinct  murmur  of  voices,  and  pres- 
ently saw  a  crowd  of  boys,  who  were  walking  in  a 
compact  body,  pass  across  the  road  in  front  of 
them,  and  direct  their  course  toward  the  middle 
of  the  pond.  They  thought  at  first  that  it  was 
a  skating  party  ;  but  as  they  did  not  stop  to  put 
on  their  skates,  Don  and  Bert  became  interested  in 
their  movements  and  halted  to  observe  them. 
Just  then  a  voice,  speaking  in  pleading  accents, 
came  to  their  ears. 


46  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  Don't  do  it,  boys — please  don't,"  it  said,  in  pite- 
ous tones.  "  I  wouldn't  mind  it  so  much  if  I  could 
stand  it,  but  I  solemnly  assure  you  that  I  can't. 
I  have  had  one  attack  of  pneumonia  this  winter 
that  was  brought  on  by  exposure,  and  ducking  me 
in  this  icy  water  will  surely  give  me  another." 

"  No  it  won't,"  replied  another  voice  that  Don 
knew  belonged  to  Tom  Fisher.  "This  is  a  time- 
honored  custom,  and  we  are  not  going  to  give  it 
up  ;  are  we,  boys  ?" 

"  Not  much,"  answered  the  others,  in  concert. 

"Our  fathers  were  hazed  when  they  went  to 
this  school ;  they,  in  turn,  hazed  others,  and  we 
couldn't  think  of  disgracing  them  by  refusing 
to  follow  in  their  footsteps,"  continued  Tom. 
"Every  one  of  the  fellows  you  see  around  you — 
myself  among  the  rest — has  been  hazed  in  one 
way  or  another ;  and  are  you,  a  New  York  boot- 
black, any  better  than  we  are  ?" 

"  Hurry  him  on  and  pitch  him  in,"  said  Clar- 
ence Duncan,  in  his  deep  base  tones.  "  Wash 
some  of  the  black  out  of  him." 

"  Yes,  in  with  him,"  piped  little  Dick  Hender- 
son. 

"  Well,  boys,  if  you  must  do  it  to  preserve  your 


HAZING   A    "PLEBE."  47 

honor,  let  me  take  my  clothes  off  first,"  said  the 
pleading  voice.  "  This  is  the  only  suit  I  have  in 
the  world,  and  if  I  get  it  wet  I  shall  freeze  to 
death,  for  I  have  no  fire  in  my  room  to  dry  it  by." 

"  Then  go  to  bed,"  was  the  rough  rejoinder. 

"  Why,  what  in  the  world  are  those  fellows 
going  to  do  ?"  said  Bert,  who  had  listened  in 
great  amazement  to  this  conversation,  every  word 
of  which  came  distinctly  to  the  ears  of  himself 
and  his  brother.  "  I  am  afraid  they  are  going  to 
do  something  to  somebody." 

"  Have  you  just  found  it  out  ?"  exclaimed  Don, 
who  now  discovered  that  the  boys  were  making 
their  way  toward  a  hole  that  had  been  previously 
cut  in  the  ice.  "A  party  of  students,  led  by 
Fisher  and  Duncan,  are  going  to  haze  a  Plebe  by 
ducking  him  in  the  pond.  Now  I  shall  have  a 
word  or  two  to  say  about  that.  They  are  the 
same  fellows  who  blocked  up  our  path  this  morn- 
ing and  wouldn't  let  us  go  by.  You  know  they 
promised  to  settle  with  me  some  day  for  showing 
so  much  'independence,'  as  they  called  it,  and 
they  might  as  well  do  it  now  as  any  other  time." 

"  0  Don,  mind  what  you  are  about,"  cried 
Bert. 


48  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  I  will.  I'll  black  the  eyes  of  some  of  them 
before  they  shall  stick  that  boy  through  the  ice. 
Why,  Bert,  what  would  father  say  to  me  if  he 
should  hear  that  I  stood  by  and  witnessed  such  a 
proceeding  without  lifting  a  hand  to  prevent  it  ? 
He  would  tell  me  I  wasn't  worthy  of  the  name  I 
bear." 

No  one  who  knew  the  temper  of  the  academy 
boys,  and  the  tenacity  with  which  they  clung  to 
the  "time-honored  customs"  of  the  institution  to 
which  they  belonged,  would  have  thought  Don 
Gordon  a  coward  if  he  had  taken  to  his  heels  and 
made  the  best  of  his  way  to  his  room.  He  knew 
very  well  that  if  he  attempted  to  interfere  with 
Tom  and  his  crowd,  he  stood  a  good  chance  of  be- 
ing ducked  himself;  but  the  knowledge  of  this  fact 
did  not  deter  him  from  promptly  carrying  out  the 
plans  he  had  resolved  upon.  It  would  have  been 
bad  enough,  he  told  himself,  if  the  students  had 
selected  as  a  victim  a  boy  who  had  an  extra  suit 
of  clothes,  a  change  of  linen  to  put  on,  and  a  fire 
to  warm  himself  by  after  his  cold  bath  ;  but  to 
pitch  upon  one  who  had  none  of  these  comforts, 
and  who  ran  the  risk  of  being  thrown  into  a  dan- 
gerous illness  by  the  folly  of  his  tormentors,  was, 


HAZING   A   "PLEBE."  49 

in  his  estimation,  a  most  cowardly  act,  and  one 
that  could  not  be  too  severely  punished. 

"  Bert,  you  had  better  stay  here  where  you  will 
be  safe,"  said  Don. 

"  I'll  not  do  it,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  "  If 
you  are  going  into  danger,  I  am  going  in  too." 

Don,  knowing  that  it  would  be  of  no  use  to 
argue  the  matter,  ran  out  on  the  ice,  and  when  he 
came  up  with  the  crowd  his  coats  were  off,  and  he 
was  in  his  shirt-sleeves.  Fisher  and  his  compan- 
ions stopped  when  they  heard  the  sound  of  his 
approaching  footsteps,  and  some  of  them  acted  as 
if  they  wanted  to  run  away  ;  but  when  they  dis- 
covered that  Don  and  Bert  were  alone,  they 
waited  for  them  to  come  nearer,  thinking  that 
perhaps  they  were  a  couple  of  the  members  of 
their  own  class  who  wanted  to  join  in  the  sport. 
When  they  saw  Don  pull  off  his  overcoat,  how- 
ever, their  eyes  were  opened. 

"  Here  comes  an  intruder,  boys,"  exclaimed  one 
of  the  students,  "  and  judging  by  the  way  he  acts, 
he  is  getting  ready  for  a  rumpus." 

"  Let  him  get  ready,"  said  Fisher.     "  There  are 
a  dozen  of  us.     If  he  turns  out  to  be  a  Plebe, 
we'll  stick  him  in  too.    The  more  the  merrier,  you 
3 


60        DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

know.  Who  comes  there  ?"  he  added,  raising  his 
voice. 

"  A  peace-maker,"  replied  Don,  throwing  his 
coats  on  the  ice. 

"  Yes,  you  look  like  it,"  sneered  Clarence  Dun- 
can. "  If  that  is  so,  what  did  you  pull  your  duds 
off  for  ?" 

"  Because  I  did  not  know  how  you  would  re- 
ceive my  overtures,  and  I  thought  it  the  part  of 
wisdom  to  be  prepared  for  any  emergency,"  an- 
swered Don. 

So  saying,  he  walked  boldly  into  the  crowd, 
which  gave  way  right  and  left  as  he  advanced, 
and  took  his  stand  by  the  side  of  the  prisoner, 
who  was  firmly  held  by  two  of  the  largest  and 
strongest  students,  while  two  others  stood  close 
behind  him,  in  readiness  to  lend  their  assistance 
in  case  he  made  any  attempt  at  escape.  Although 
Don  had  never  exchanged  a  word  with  the  boy, 
he  knew  him  at  once,  for  they  belonged  to  the 
same  company.  It  was  the  new  student  whose 
presence,  if  we  are  to  believe  Fisher  and  his 
friends,  was  a  disgrace  to  the  academy  and  every- 
body belonging  to  it.  He  wore  the  same  thin 
clothes  in  which  he  had  shivered  as  he  walked  up 


HAZING   A   "PLEBE."  51 

the  path  that  morning,  and  the  keen  wind  that 
swept  across  the  icy  surface  of  the  big  pond  must 
have  chilled  him  to  the  very  marrow.  He  had  no 
muffler  about  his  face  nor  any  gloves  on  his  hands, 
which  he  held  clasped  one  within  the  other,  as 
if  they  were  very  cold.  Don  looked  at  him 
and  then  at  the  comfortably  clad  boys  who 
were  standing  around,  and  his  blood,  which  was 
none  of  the  coolest  at  any  time,  boiled  with  in- 
dignation. 

"  You  are  a  pack  of  contemptible  cowards," 
said  he,  pulling  off  his  gloves  and  slamming  them 
down  on  the  ice. 

"  Why,  bless  our  royal  heart,  it's  the  Planter  !" 
exclaimed  Tom  Fisher,  who  now,  for  the  first 
time,  recognized  the  intruder.  "Here's  luck, 
boys.  Grab  hold  of  him,  some  of  you,  and  we'll 
wash  him  too." 

"If  that's  the  Planter,  this  must  be  his 
brother,"  said  Dick  Henderson. 

"  Why,  so  it  is,"  said  Fisher,  after  he  had 
taken  a  sharp  look  into  Bert's  face.  "Here's 
more  luck.  Take  hold  of  him  too,  boys  ;  and 
since  they  have  had  the  assurance  to  push  them- 
selves in  among  us  without  being  asked,  we  will 


52  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

give  them  the  post  of  honor.  We'll  duck  them 
first/ 

In  obedience  to  these  orders  three  or  four  pairs 
of  hands  were  laid  upon  Bert's  arms  ;  but  when 
the  rest  of  the  crowd  moved  forward  to  lay  hold 
of  Don,  Duncan  stepped  up  and  stopped  them. 

"  Stand  back,  all  of  you,"  said  he.  "  I  want  to 
have  a  little  talk  with  this  fellow  before  he  is  put 
into  that  air-hole.  Gordon,  you  insulted  me  this 
morning  in  the  presence  of  my  friends,  and  I  want 
you  to  apologize  for  it  at  once.  If  you  don't  do 
it,  I  will  give  you  a  thrashing  right  here  on  this 
ice  that  you  won't  get  over  for  a  month." 

"  How  did  I  insult  you  ?  "  asked  Don,  and  the 
bully  was  somewhat  surprised  to  see  that  he  did 
not  appear  to  be  at  all  alarmed. 

"  You  said  you  would  make  a  spread-eagle  of  me. 
Now,  which  will  you  do,  apologize  or  fight  ?  " 

"  Well,  if  it's  all  the  same  to  you,  I'll  fight." 

Duncan  was  fairly  staggered  by  this  reply. 
Kemembering  the  exhibition  of  strength  he  had 
witnessed  in  the  gymnasium  that  afternoon,  he 
had  no  desire  to  come  to  blows  with  the  stalwart 
youth  who  stood  before  him.  He  had  hoped  to 
frighten  an  apology  from  Don,  and  when  he  found 


HAZING   A    "PLEBE."  53 

that  he  could  not  do  it,  he  wished  he  had  not 
been  in  such  haste  to  make  overtures  of  battle  to 
him.  But  it  was  too  late  to  think  of  that  now, 
for  his  reputation  was  at  stake.  Besides  he  did 
not  believe  that  his  friend  Fisher  would  stand  by 
and  see  him  worsted. 

"  You  need  have  no  fear  of  these  fellows  who 
are  standing  around,"  said  Duncan,  who  wanted 
to  put  off  the  critical  moment  as  long  as  he 
could."  They  will  not  double-team  on  you." 

"  If  they  do  they  will  take  the  consequences," 
said  Don,  confidently.  "  I  think  myself  that  they 
had  better  keep  their  distance. 

These  bold  words  astonished  everybody. 

"  Why  I  believe  he  thinks  he  can  whip  the 
whole  crowd,"  said  Henderson,  who  was  one  of 
the  four  who  were  holding  fast  to  Bert's  arms. 
Bert  was  a  little  fellow,  like  himself,  and  conse- 
quently Dick  was  not  very  much  afraid  of  him. 

"Come  on,"  said  Don,  impatiently.  "I  am 
getting  cold  standing  here  in  my  shirt-sleeves. 
Give  me  a  little  exercise  to  warm  me  up.  Ke- 
member  I  wasn't  born  as  near  the  Arctic  Circle  as 
you  fellows  were,  and  for  that  reason  I  can't 
stand  the  cold  as  well.  Hurry  up,  somebody — 


54  DON   GOKDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

anybody  who  thinks  he  was  insulted  by  the  words 
I  uttered  this  morning." 

Driven  almost  to  desperation  by  this  challenge, 
which  he  knew  was  addressed  to  himself,  and 
which  seemed  to  imply  that  his  prospective 
antagonist  placed  a  very  low  estimate  upon  his 
powers,  Duncan  pulled  off  both  his  coats, 
assumed  a  threatening  attitude  and  advanced  to- 
ward Don,  who  extended  his  hand  in  the  most 
friendly  manner.  The  bully,  believing  that  Don 
wanted  to  parley  with  him,  took  the  proffered 
hand  in  his  own,  and  in  a  second  more  arose  in 
the  air  as  if  an  exceedingly  strong  spring  had 
suddenly  uncoiled  itself  under  his  feet.  When  he 
came  down  again  he  measured  his  full  length  on 
the  ice,  landing  in  such  dangerous  proximity  to 
the  hole  that  had  been  cut  for  the  poor  student's 
benefit,  that  his  uniform  cap  fell  into  it. 

Everybody  was  struck  motionless  and  dumb 
with  amazement.  The  bully  was  so  bewildered 
that  he  did  not  get  upon  his  feet  again  immedi- 
ately, and  the  poor  student  forgot  to  shiver. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE   NEW    YORK   BOOT-BLACK. 

"fTlAKE  your  hands  off  those  boys,"  said 
Don,  who  was  in  just  the  right  humor  to 
make  a  scattering  among  Fisher's  jcrowd  of 
friends.  "  Release  them  both  and  do  it  at  once, 
or  I  will  pitch  the  last  one  of  you  into  that  hole 
before  you  can  say  '  General  Jackson '  with  your 
mouths  open.  Come  over  here,  Bert." 

He  stepped  up  and  took  the  prisoner  by  the 
arm,  and  his  four  guards  surrendered  him  without 
a  word  of  protest.  The  magical  manner  in  which 
Don  had  floored  the  biggest  bully  in  school, 
before  whom  no  boy  in  Bridgeport  had  ever  been 
able  to  stand  for  a  minute,  either  with  boxing- 
gloves  or  bare  fists,  and  the  ease  with  which  he 
had  done  it,  astounded  them.  They  had  never 
seen  anything  like  it  before,  and  there  was  some- 
thing very  mysterious  in  it.  Did  not  this  back- 
woodsman have  other  equally  bewildering  tactics 
at  his  command  which  he  could  bring  into  play  if 


56  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

he  were  crowded  upon  ?  Probably  he  had,  and 
BO  the  best  thing  they  could  do  was  to  let  him 
alone. 

"  Your  name  is  Sam  Arkwright,  is  it  not  ?  " 
said  Don,  taking  one  of  the  boy's  blue-cold  hands 
in  both  his  own  warm  ones.  "I  thought  I  had 
heard  you  answer  to  that  name  at  roll-call.  I  am 
a  plebe  too,  and  so  we'll  stand  together.  Put  on 
these  gloves  and  come  with  me.  You  will  freeze 
if  you  stay  here  any  longer.  As  for  you,"  he 
added,  waving  his  hand  toward  the  students  to 
show  that  he  included  them  all  in  the  remarks  he 
was  about  to  make,"  you  are  a  pack  of  cowards, 
and  I  can  whip  the  best  man  among  you  right 
here  and  now.  Pick  him  out  and  let  me  take  a 
look  at  him." 

"  I  am  good  for  the  best  of  them  if  they  will 
come  one  at  a  time,"  said  Sam.  "  But  I  give  in 
to  a  dozen  when  they  all  jump  on  me  at  once." 

"I  will  leave  that  challenge  open,"  said  Don,  as 
he  led  Sam  away.  "  You  know  where  my  room 
is,  and  any  little  notes  you  may  choose  to  shove 
under  my  door  will  receive  prompt  attention." 

Tom  and  his  crowd  did  not  speak  ;  they  had 
not  yet  recovered  from  their  amazement.  They 


THE   NEW   YORK   BOOT-BLACK.  57 

stood  gazing  after  the  rescued  boy  and  his 
champion  until  they  disappeared  in  the  darkness, 
and  then  they  turned  and  looked  at  one  another. 

"I  declare,  Duncan,"  exclaimed  Tom  Fisher, 
who  was  the  first  to  speak.  "  You've  met  your 
master  at  last,  have  you  not  ?  " 

The  defeated  bully  growled  out  something  in 
reply,  but  his  friends  could  not  understand  what 
it  was.  Like  every  boy  who  prides  himself  upon 
his  strength  and  skill,  he  did  not  like  to  acknowl- 
edge that  he  had  been  beaten. 

"  Did  he  hurt  you  ? "  asked  one  of  the 
students.  "  I  noticed  that  you  didn't  get  up 
right  away." 

"  How  in  the  name  of  all  that's  wonderful  did 
he  do  it  ?  "  inquired  another.  "  I  didn't  see  him 
clinch  or  strike  you." 

"  He  did  neither,"  replied  Duncan,*  "  and 
that's  just  what  bangs  me.  I  am  willing  to 
swear  that  he  did  not  touch  me  anywhere  except 
on  the  hand,  and  he  took  hold  of  that  just  as 
though  he  wanted  to  give  it  a  friendly  shake. 
It's  a  trick  of  some  kind — a  boss  one,  too — and  I 
will  give  him  my  next  quarter's  spending  money 
if  he  will  teach  it  to  me." 


58  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING  BOX. 

"  Humph  !  "  exclaimed  Tom  Fisher.  "  You 
needn't  expect  to  him  to  do  that.  He  doesn't 
look  to  me  to  be  such  a  fool.  You  and  he  may 
come  together  in  earnest  some  day — if  you  don't, 
he  will  be  about  the  only  boy  you  haven't  had 
a  fight  with  since  you  have  been  a  student  at 
this  academy — and  then  you  will  probably  find 
out  what  his  tricks  are." . 

"  He  didn't  hurt  me  at  all,"  continued 
Clarence ;  "  but  he  could  if  he  had  been  so 
disposed.  If  he  had  used  a  little  more  exertion 
he  could  have  thrown  me  into  that  air-hole ; 
and  if  I  had  happened  to  come  up  under  the 
ice — ugh  !  "  exclaimed  Clarence,  shivering  all  over 
as  he  looked  down  into  the  dark  water. 

"Is  there  no  way  in  which  we  can  get  even 
with  him  ?  "  asked  Fisher. 

'"Is  £here  ! "  replied  Clarence,  angrily.  "Do 
you  suppose  that  I  am  going  to  submit  tamely 
to  an  insult  like  that  ?  We'll  make  a  way  to 
get  even  with  him.  Things  have  come  to  a 
pretty  pass  if  a  plebe  is  going  to  be  allowed  to 
come  here  and  run  this  school  to  suit  himself." 

The  mere  reference  to  such  an  unheard-of 
thing  was  enough  to  raise  the  ire  of  Tom  Fisher 


THE   NEW   YORK   BOOT-BLACK.  59 

and  all  his  companions,  who  with  one  voice 
declared  that  the  Planter,  having  presumed  to 
lay  violent  hands  on  an  upper-class  boy,  and 
to  set  at  defiance  one  of  the  old-established  cus- 
toms of  the  academy,  must  be  made  to  suffer 
the  consequences.  They  held  a  long  and  earnest 
consultation  there  on  the  ice,  and  Fisher  and 
Duncan,  who  were  fruitful  in  expedients,  soon 
hit  upon  a  plan  which  promised,  if  skillfully 
managed,  to  bring  Sam  Arkwright's  champion 
into  serious  trouble.  It  was  a  most  dangerous 
plan,  because  it  was  to  be  carried  out  under 
the  guise  of  friendship. 

"That's  the  only  way  to  ^o  it,  fellows,  you 
may  depend  upon  it,"  said  Duncan,  after  their 
scheme  had  been  thoroughly  discussed.  "  We 
must  bring  him  into  trouble  with  the  faculty, 
and  let  them  do  the  hazing,  for  we  couldn't 
do  it  if  we  wanted  to.  I  was  nothing  but  a 
child  in  his  grasp,  and,  to  tell  the  honest  truth, 
I  have  no  desire  to  face  him  again." 

"  I  hope  we  shall  succeed,"  said  Fisher.  "  But 
if  the  Planter  turns  out  to  be  one  of  those 
good  little  boys  who  never  do  anything  wrong, 
then  what  ?  " 


60  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

If  Tom  had  only  known  it,  he  need  not  have 
bothered  his  head  on  this  point.  Unfortunately 
for  Don,  something  happened  that  very  night 
which  made  it  comparatively  easy  for  the  con- 
spirators to  carry  out  the  plans  they  had  formed 
regarding  him. 

Meanwhile  Don  and  Bert  were  walking  briskly 
toward  the  academy  in  company  with  the  res- 
cued boy,  who  was  somewhat  protected  from 
the  keen  wind  by  Bert's  muffler,  which  the 
latter  had  wrapped  about  his  neck,  and  by 
Don's  gloves  which  he  wore  upon  his  hands. 
He  was  lost  in  admiration  of  his  new  friend's 
prowess,  and  complimented  him  in  the  best 
language  he  could  command. 

"  Are  you  an  Irishman,  sir  ?  "  Sam  asked,  at 
length. 

"  Look  here,"  answered  Don,  "  my  name  is 
Gordon — there's  no  'sir'  about  it.  No,  I  am 
not  an  Irishman.  I  am  an  American,  I  am 
proud  to  say ;  but  I  understand  the  Irish  '  hand 
and  foot'  well  enough  to  give  it  to  such  fel- 
lows as  that  Clarence  Duncan.  I  can  throw  a 
man  weighing  two  hundred  pounds  in  that  way 
if  he  will  let  me  take  hold  of  his  hand." 


THE   NEW   YORK   BOOT-BLACK.  61 

"It  was  well  done,"  said  Sam.  "I  never 
saw  it  done  better." 

"I  learned  it  of  one  of  my  father's  hired 
men — a  discharged  Union  soldier  who  came  to 
our  plantation  penniless  and  hungry,  and  asked 
for  work,"  said  Don.  "  I  always  make  it  a  point 
to  pick  up  any  little  thing  of  that  kind  that 
happens  to  fall  in  my  way.  It  may  come  handy 
some  day,  you  know." 

Perhaps  you  will  now  understand  how  Don 
had  managed  to  throw  the  bully  of  the  school 
so  easily ;  but  if  you  do  not,  we  can  only  say 
that  it  cannot  be  described  on  paper  so  that 
you  can  gain  even  a  faint  idea  of  it.  If  you 
want  to  know  just  how  it  was  done,  the  easiest 
way  to  learn  is  to  ask  some  Irishman  —  the 
fresher  he  is  from  the  old  sod  the  better — to 
give  you  a  practical  illustration  of  the  "  hand 
and  foot."  Simply  give  him  your  hand,  and  if 
his  feelings  toward  you  are  friendly,  he  will 
send  you  flying  through  the  air  without  hurt- 
ing you  in  the  least;  but  if  he  is  not  friendly, 
we  would  not  advise  you  to  go  to  him  for 
information,  for  he  can  turn  you  heels  up  in 
an  instant,  and  land  you  on  your  head  with  force 


62  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

enough  to  knock  all  your  brains  into  your  boots. 
Don  had  become  so  expert  in  this  novel  way 
of  wrestling,  and  so  prone  to  put  it  into  practice 
at  every  opportunity,  that  none  of  the 'boys  about 
Rochdale  could  be  induced  to  shake  hands  with 
him. 

"  How  did  you  ever  happen  to  find  your  way 
to  this  school  I "  inquired  Don,  after  Sam  had 
exhausted  his  vocabulary  in  praising  his  new 
friend's  skill  as  a  wrestler.  "  Were  you  really 
a  New  York  boot-black  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  was,"  answered  Sam,  hesitatingly. 

"It  is  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,"  said  Bert, 
who  thought  from  the  way  Sam  spoke  that  he  did 
not  like  to  confess  that  he  had  once  occupied  so 
lowly  a  position  in  the  world. 

"  Of  course  not,"  Don  hastened  to  add.  "  Any 
honest  work  is  honorable.  Your  presence  here 
proves  that  you  didn't  want  to  remain  a  boot- 
black all  your  days." 

"  No,  I  didn't.  I  was  ambitious  to  be  some- 
thing better,"  said  Sam,  who  then  went  on  to 
give  Don  and  his  brother  a  short  history  of 
his  life.  He  said  that  his  father,  who  followed 
the  sea  for  a  livelihood,  had  gone  down  with 


THE    NEW    YORK    BOOT-BLACK.  63 

his  vessel  during  a  terrific  storm  off  Cape  Hat- 
teras  ;  that  his  mother  had  survived  him  but  a 
few  months ;  and  that  after  her  death  a  grasp- 
ing landlord  had  seized  all  the  household  furni- 
ture as  security  for  the  rent  that  was  due  and 
unpaid,  turning  him  (Sam)  into  the  streets  to 
shift  for  himself.  He  spent  the  days  in  roam- 
ing about  the  city,  looking  in  vain  for  work,  and 
his  nights  in  a  lumber-yard  to  which  he  had  been 
invited  by  a  friendly  boot-black,  who  found  free 
lodgings  there  every  night,  and  who,  seeing  Sam's 
forlorn  condition,  gave  him  a  plate  of  soup  to 
eat  and  furnished  him  with  a  plank  to  sleep 
on.  Finding  that  work  was  not  to  be  had,  Sam 
at  last  ran  in  debt  for  a  boot-black's  "kit," 
which  he  procured  from  one  of  the  fraternity  who 
had  saved  money  enough  to  open  a  corner  pea- 
nut stand,  and  after  a  score  or  more  of  battles 
with  boys  whose  "claims"  he  unwittingly 
"jumped,"  he  succeeded  in  establishing  himself 
in  front  of  a  popular  hotel  in  the  city,  where 
he  was  to  be  found  early  and  late.  It  was  there 
he  met  the  Superintendent  of  the  Bridgeport 
Military  Academy,  who  patronized  him  twice 
every  day,  never  failing  to  give  him  a  quarter 


64  DON  GOKDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

for  each  "shine,"  or  to  spend  a  few  minutes  in 
conversation  with  him  after  the  boy's  work  was 
completed. 

From  the  day  he  was  six  years  old  up  to 
the  time  his  father  was  lost  at  sea,  Sam  at- 
tended the  district  school  regularly;  and  as  he 
was  a  very  faithful  student,  and  tried  hard  to 
learn,  he  knew  more  about  books  than  boys  of 
his  age  generally  do.  He  felt  that  he  was  out 
of  place  among  the  ragged,  ignorant  little 
gamins  with  whom  he  was  daily  and  hourly 
thrown  in  contact,  and  they,  realizing  that  he 
was  not  one  of  them,  and  that  he  believed 
himself  to  be  fitted  for  something  better  than 
the  life  of  a  boot-black,  tormented  him  in 
every  conceivable  way.  He  was  so  often  called 
upon  to  protect  his  brush  and  his  box  of 
blacking  from  the  young  rowdies  who  would 
have  despoiled  him  of  them,  that  he  became  an 
adept  at  fighting,  and  it  is  probable  that  he 
would  have  opened  the  eyes  of  Torn  Fisher  and 
his  crowd,  had  they  not  pounced  upon  him 
while  he  was  asleep,  and  overpowered  him  be- 
fore he  could  raise  a  hand  to  defend  himself. 

"I  am  sure   I   don't  know  what  it  was   that 


THE   NEW   YOEK   BOOT-BLACK.  65 

made  the  Professor  take  a  liking  to  me,"  said 
Sam  in  conclusion,  "  but  it  was  something ;  and 
when  he  asked  me  if  I  wouldn't  like  to  quit  that 
miserable  business  and  go  to  school  and  learn  to 
be  a  civil  or  a  mining  engineer,  I  tell  you  it 
almost  took  my  breath  away.  I  jumped  at  the 
chance.  I  gave  my  kit  to  a  boy  who  was  too 
poor  to  buy  one,  and  came  out  here  ;  and  I  am 
very  sorry  for  it.  The  fellows  don't  want  me 
here,  and  they  didn't  want  me  in  New  York, 
either.  I  hope  I  shall  some  day  find  a  place 
where  I  shall  not  be  in  everybody's  way." 

"Don't  get  down-hearted,"  said  Don,  taking  one 
of  his  hands  out  of  his  pocket  long  enough  to 
give  Sam  an  encouraging  slap  on  the  back.  "Of 
course  your  tuition  is  free  ?  " 

"  Yes,  everything  is  furnished  me.  If  it  wasn't 
I  couldn't  stay  here,  for  I  have  no  money  to  speak 
of.  The  boys  in  New  York  badgered  me  so,  and 
ran  such  heavy  opposition  to  me  that  I  couldn't 
earn  enough  to  buy  a  warm  suit  of  clothes." 

"  You  will  have  an  abundance  of  them  in  a  day 
or  two,"  said  Don,  "  for  our  uniforms  will  be  along 
by  that  time.  You  couldn't  get  an  education  on 
better  terms  than  the  Professor  offers  it  to 


66  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

could  you  ?  And  so  long  as  he  is  willing  that 
you  should  stay  here,  you  can  well  afford  to 
let  the  fellows  grumble  to  their  hearts'  con- 
tent. Show  the  Professor  that  you  appreciate 
his  kindness  by  doing  your  duty  like  a  man,  and 
look  to  me  for  help  whenever  you  get  into  trouble. 
Now  the  next  thing  is  something  else,"  added 
Don,  as  he  and  his  companions  came  to  a  halt  in 
front  of  the  high  picket-fence  which  inclosed  the 
academy  grounds.  '"'Where's  your  room,  Sam  ?" 

"I  haven't  any  yet.  I  sleep  in  the  attic. 
The  rooms  on  the  floor  occupied  by  our  class 
are  all  taken  except  one.  That  has  been  used 
as  a  store-room,  and  as  soon  as  it  is  cleared  out 
I  am  to  have  it  for  my  own." 

"  Well,  do  you  want  the  teachers  to  know  any- 
thing about  this  night's  work  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  returned  Sam,  who  had  all  a 
decent  boy's  horror  of  tale-bearing. 

"Because,  if  you  do,"  continued  Don,  "you 
can  walk  up  to  one  of  the  guards,  let  him  re- 
port you  for  being  outside  the  grounds  without 
a  pass,  and  when  you  are  hauled  over  the  coals 
for  it,  you  can  say  that  you  were  taken  out 
against  your  will." 


THE   NEW   YORK   BOOT-BLACK.  67 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  say  that/'  answered  Sam, 
quickly.  "  It  would  bring  Tom  and  the  rest  into 
trouble.  I  have  nothing  against  them,  and  I 
should  be  glad  to  be  friends  with  them  if  they 
would  only  let  me." 

"  You'll  do  to  tie  to,"  said  Don,  approvingly. 
"  Bert  and  I  have  a  pass  that  will  see  us  through 
all  right ;  but  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  Do 
you  think  you  can  make  your  way  to  the  attic 
without  being  seen  by  any  of  the  sentries  or 
floor  guards  ?  " 

"  Tom  and  his  crowd  brought  me  out  without 
attracting  the  attention  of  any  of  them,  and  I 
don't  see  why  I  can't  get  back  without  being 
caught.  At  any  rate  I  shall  try  my  best.  Good- 
night. I  hope  that  neither  of  you  will  ever  stand 
in  need  of  such  aid  as  you  have  rendered  me 
to-night ;  but  if  you  do,  you  may  count  on  me 
every  time." 

So  saying  Sam  moved  away  in  one  direction, 
closely  examining  all  the  pickets  on  the  fence  as 
he  went,  and  Don  and  Bert  walked  off  in  the 
other.  When  the  latter  arrived  within  sight  of 
the  main  gate  they  were  somewhat  surprised  to 
see  that  it  was  closed.  The  sound  of  their  foot- 


68  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BCX. 

steps  on  the  frosty  snow  quickly  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  alert  sentry,  who  came  out  of  his 
box  and  demanded  to  know  who  they  were  and 
what  they  were  doing  there  at  that  time  of  night. 

"  We  belong  to  this  academy,"  replied  Don, 
"  and  have  a  pass  from  the  superintendent." 

"  Corporal  of  the  guard  No.  4,"  yelled  the 
sentry ;  and  the  call  was  caught  up  and  repeated 
by  another  sentinel  who  stood  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  academy,  and  finally  reached  the  ears  of  the 
corporal,  who  was  toasting  his  shins  in  front  of  a 
warm  fire  in  the  guard-room. 

"What  do  you  want  the  corporal  for  ?  Here's 
our  pass,"  said  Don  ;  and  taking  the  paper  in 
question  from  his  pocket  he  thrust  it  between 
the  bars  of  the  gate. 

Still  the  sentry  made  no  reply,  nor  did  he  seem 
to  know  that  Don  had  spoken  to  him.  He  brought 
his  musket  to  a  "support,"  and  paced  back  and 
forth  on  the  other  side  of  the  gate  with  slow  and 
dignified  steps.  Don  muttered  something  under 
his  breath,  and  Bert  believing  that  he  was 
grumbling  at  the  sentry  for  being  so  uncivil,  laid 
his  hand  on  his  brother's  arm  and  said,  in  a  low 
tone — 


THE    NEW   YORK   BOOT-BLACK.  69 

"  Don't  be  angry  with  him.  Perhaps  he  is  not 
allowed  to  talk  while  he  is  on  duty." 

Don  said  nothing.  He  began  to  believe  that  he 
and  Bert  had  unwittingly  got  themselves  into 
trouble  again,  and  when  the  corporal  came  up,  he 
found  that  he  had  not  been  mistaken. 

"  What's  the  matter  here  ? "  demanded  the 
officer. 

"  There  are  a  couple  of  plebes  out  there  who 
want  to  come  in,"  was  the  sentry's  reply. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  said  the  corporal,  peering 
through  the  pickets  at  the  two  brothers. 

Don  gave  him  their  names ;  whereupon  the 
corporal  took  a  key  down  from  a  nail  in  the 
sentry's  box,  and  after  unlocking  the  gate  told  the 
boys  to  come  in.  They  obeyed,  and  the  officer 
having  returned  the  key  to  its  place  drew  a  note- 
book from  his  pocket  and  wrote  something  in  it. 
"  That's  all  right,"  said  he,  as  he  closed  the  book 
and  put  it  back  in  his  racket. 

"  Have  we  done  anything  wrong  ?  "  inquired 
Bert,  in  anxious  tones. 

"You  will  find  that  out  to-morrow/'  was  the 
corporal's  very  unsatisfactory  answer. 

"  Why  can't  you  give  a  civil  reply  to  a  civil 


70  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

question  ?  "  demanded  Don,  impatiently.  "  We 
had  liberty  to  go  outside  the  grounds  for  the 
evening,  and  here's  the  pass  that  says  so." 

"  I  don't  want  to  see  it,"  said  the  corporal,  as 
he  buttoned  his  overcoat  and  drew  the  cape  over 
his  head.  "I  know  just  how  it  reads.  Come 
on." 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  take  us  ?  "  asked 
Bert,  while  visions  of  the  gloomy  guard-house 
danced  before  his  eyes. 

"  To  the  officer  of  the  day,  of  course." 

"  And  what  will  he  do  with  us  ?  " 

"  That's  for  him  to  tell.  Come  on.  It's  too 
cold  to  stand  here  any  longer." 

Don  and  Bert  fell  in  behind  the  corporal,  who 
led  the  way  to  the  guard-room,  and  ushered  them 
into  a  little  office  where  the  officer  of  the  day — a 
stern  old  Prussian  soldier  who  wore  a  medal  he 
had  won  by  his  gallantry  on  the  field  of  battle 
while  serving  under  Prince  Frederick  Charles— 
sat  reading  a  newspaper.  When  the  non-com- 
missioned officer  entered  with  his  prisoners  he 
laid  the  paper  down  and  took  off  his  spectacles. 

"Vel,  gorporal,"  said  he,  in  a  pompous  tone, 
"  vat  ish  the  drouble  mit  dem  gadets  ?  " 


THE  NEW   YORK   BOOT-BLACK.  71 

"  They  have  overstayed  their  time,  sir,"  said 
the  corporal. 

"  Vot  for  you  do  dot  ?  "  demanded  the  officer 
of  the  day,  turning  fiercely  upon  the  culprits. 
"  Vot  for  you  not  come  in,  ha  ?  " 

"  We  were  not  aware  that  we  had  overstayed 
our  time,  sir,"  answered  Don.  "If  we  had 
known  that  we  were  expected  to  return  at  a 
certain  hour,  we  should  have  been  here.  We 
had  a  pass  for  the  evening,  and  there  it  is." 

"  Dot's  no  good  after  daps,"  said  the  officer  of 
the  day,  turning  away  his  head  and  waving  his 
hand  in  the  air  to  indicate  that  he  did  not  care 
to  look  at  the  paper  which  Don  presented  for  his 
inspection. 

"  I  assure  you,  sir,  that  it  was  a  mistake  on 
our  part,"  said  Bert. 

But  the  officer  of  the  day  declared,  in  his 
broken  English  and  with  many  gesticulations, 
that  such  things  as  mistakes  were  not  recognized 
in  that  academy — that  Don  and  his  brother  had 
violated  the  regulations  and  might  make  up  their 
minds  to  be  punished  accordingly.  Then  he 
ordered  them  to  their  quarters,  while  the  corporal 
went  back  to  his  seat  by  the  stove. 


72  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"He  didn't  say  that  we  were  in  arrest,  did 
he  ? "  said  Don,  as  he  and  Bert  ascended  the 
stairs,  at  the  top  of  which  they  met  the  sentry 
who  had  charge  of  that  floor,  standing  with  his 
note-book  in  his  hand. 

"  Your  names,  please,"  said  he,  pleasantly. 

"The  corporal  of  the  guard  has  them,  and 
so  has  the  officer  of  the  day/'  answered  Don. 

"  And  I  must  have  them,  too,"  returned  the 
sentry,  holding  his  pencil  poised,  in  the  air. 

Don  gave  the  required  information  in  rather  a 
sullen  tone,  and  closed  the  door  of  his  dormitory 
behind  him  with  no  gentle  hand.  As  soon  as 
Bert  had  struck  a  light  he  drew  the  pass  from  his 
pocket  and  read  as  follows  : 

"  Guards  and  patrols  will  pass  privates  Donald 
and  Hubert  Gordon  until  half-past  nine  o'clock 
this  evening." 

Then  he  looked  at  his  watch  and  saw  that  it 
lacked  only  a  quarter  of  eleven.  Allowing  fifteen 
minutes  for  their  interviews  with  the  corporal  and 
the  officer  of  the  day,  they  had  overstayed  their 
time  just  an  hour.  Bert  was  very  penitent,  but 
Don  was  inclined  to  be  rebellious. 


CHAPTER  V. 

DON   AND   BERT   HAVE   VISITORS. 

"  T  WONDER  if  a  feljow  can  make  a  move  in 
any  direction  without  breaking  some  of  the 
numerous  rules  of  this  school  and  being  reported 
for  it,"  said  Don,  throwing  his  overcoat  and  cap 
spitefully  down  upon  the  bed.  "I  declare, 
Bert " 

Just  then  the  door  opened  and  the  sentry  thrust 
his  head  into  the  room.  "  Put  out  that  light, 
Plebe,"  said  he.  "  Two  reports  in  one  night  make 
a  tolerably  bad  showing,  the  first  thing  you 
know." 

"  Catch  hold  of  that  gas-fixture  and  jerk  it  out 
of  the  wall,"  exclaimed  Don,  as  Bert  hastened 
to  obey  the  sentry's  order.  "  That  makes  twice  it 
has  got  us  into  trouble." 

"  Oh,  I  wouldn't  do  that,"  said  the  sentry,  with 
a  laugh.  You  had  better  read  the  rules  and  regu- 
lations until  you  have  them  firmly  fixed  in  your 
mind,  and  then,  if  you  see  fit  to  obey  them  to  the 
very  letter,  you  will  have  plain  sailing." 
4 


74  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

Don  undressed  in  the  dark  and  tumbled  into 
bed,  telling  himself  the  while  that  he  didn't  care 
a  snap  of  his  finger  for  the  rules  and  regulations. 
He  had  not  purposely  violated  any  of  them,  and 
yet  he  had  been  severely  reprimanded,  and  was 
yet  to  be  punished  as  though  he  had  been  willfully 
disobedient. 

"  When  the  leopard  can  change  his  spots  and 
the  Ethiopian  his  skin,  I  shall  believe  that  there 
is  some  hope  for  me,"  said  Don  to  himself,  as  he 
arranged  his  pillow  and  prepared  to  go  to  sleep. 
"  But  there  doesn't  seem  to  be  much  now,  for  the 
harder  I  try  to  be  good  the  more  rows  I  get  into. 
I  would  give  something  to  know  how  Tom  Fisher 
and  his  crowd  came  out,  and  whether  or  not  Sam 
succeeded  in  getting  back  to  his  attic  without 
being  seen  by  the  guards." 

Bert  arose  the  next  morning,  after  an  almost 
sleepless  night,  full  of  apprehension  and  trembling 
for  fear  of  the  punishment  that  was  to  be  visited 
upon  him,  while  Don's  face  wore  a  defiant  expres- 
sion. He  had  slept  the  sleep  of  the  healthy,  and 
awoke  refreshed  and  fully  prepared  to  meet  any- 
thing that  might  be  in  store  for  him.  Greatly  to 
his  surprise  and  Bert's,  nothing  was  said  to  them 


DON   AND   BERT    HAVE   VISITORS.  75 

regarding  what  had  taken  place  the  night  before. 
They  found  opportunity  to  exchange  a  few  words 
with  Sain  Arkwright,  who  gleefully  informed  them 
that  everything  was  all  right,  and  that  no  one 
was  the  wiser  for  the  assault  that  had  been  made 
upon  him  by  the  third-class  boys,  and  caught  a 
momentary  glimpse  of  Fisher  and  Duncan,  both 
of  whom  smiled  and  saluted  in  the  most  courteous 
manner.  Don  did  not  know  what  this  meant,  but 
it  was  not  long  before  he  found  out. 

That  afternoon  all  the  members  of  the  fourth 
class  were  ordered  to  the  drill-room,  where  they 
found  a  quartermaster-sergeant,  the  captain  of 
their  company,  and  one  of  the  teachers,  who 
served  out  to  them  their  new  uniforms,  which  they 
were  told  to  put  on  at  once.  When  ranks  were 
broken,  Don  and  Bert  hastened  to  their  dormitory, 
and  had  just  completed  the  work  of  exchanging 
their  citizen's  clothes  for  their  natty  suits  of  cadet 
gray,  when  there  came  a  knock  at  the  door.  Bert's 
heart  seemed  to  stop  beating. 

"That  must  be  the  orderly,"  said  he,  in  an 
excited  whisper.  "  If  it  is,  we  shall  soon  know 
what  is  going  to  become  of  us." 

"Well,  we  might  as  well  know  one  time  as 


76  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

another/'  said  Don,  doggedly.  "  I  hope  it  is  the 
orderly,  for  I  have  been  kept  in  suspense  long 
enough." 

Bert  opened  the  door,  when  who  should  appear 
on  the  threshold  but  Tom  Fisher  and  Clarence 
Duncan.  The  former  extended  his  hand  to  Bert, 
who  took  it  after  a  little  hesitation,  while  Clarence 
entered  the  room  and  greeted  Don  in  the  same 
friendly  way. 

"Gordon,"  said  Clarence,  as  Don's  sinewy 
fingers  closed  about  his  own,  "you're  a  brick. 
We  came  here  to  tell  you  and  your  brother  that 
we  and  the  rest  of  the  fellows  are  sorry  for  what 
happened  last  night,  and  that  we  want  to  be 
friends  with  you." 

"Nothing  would  suit  me  better,"  answered 
Don. 

"We  have  had  time  to  consider  the  matter," 
said  Fisher,  seating  himself  on  Bert's  bed  and 
depositing  his  cap  on  the  table,  "and  we  are  all 
very  glad  that  you  didn't  let  us  duck  that  Plebe. 
It  would  have  been  a  mean  piece  of  business  to 
haze  him  in  that  way,  seeing  that  he  didn't  have 
a  suit  of  dry  clothes  to  put  on." 

"  Or  a  fire  to  warm  himself  by,"   chimed  in 


DON   AND   BERT   HAVE   VISITORS.  77 

Bert,  with  some  indignation  in  his  tones.  "  Why, 
I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing.  It  would  have 
been  the  death  of  him." 

"  It  was  cold,  wasn't  it  ? "  said  Clarence. 
"  Well,  we  didn't  haze  him,  and,  as  Tom  says, 
we  are  all  glad  of  it.  But,  I  say,  you  make 
nobby-looking  soldiers,  you  two.  Did  you  get 
in  last  night  all  right  ? " 

"  We  got  in  twice,"  answered  Don,  ruefully. 
"  We  got  inside  the  grounds,  and  we  got  into 
trouble." 

"  How  was  that  ?     Didn't  you  have  a  pass  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  it  was  only  good  until  half-past 
nine,  and  we  stayed  out  until  half-past  ten." 

"  Oh  !  ah.  Well,  that's  nothing  when  you 
get  used  to  it,  is  it,  Fisher  ? "  said  Clarence. 

"Nothing  at  all,"  replied  Tom.  "It  has  been 
a  very  common  thing  with  me,  and  now  I  never 
think  of  asking  for  a  pass.  I  go  when  I  please 
and  come  back  when  I  feel  like  it." 

"What  do  you  suppose  they  will  do  with 
us  ? "  asked  Bert,  who  was  anxious  to  have 
that  point  settled  as  soon  as  possible. 

"Let  me  see,"  said  Clarence,  thoughtfully. 
"  Who  was  officer  of  the  day  yesterday  ?  " 


78  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  I  don't  know  his  name,"  answered  Don, 
"but  he  was  the  same  one  who  instructs  our 
class  in  mathematics,  an  old  gentleman  with 
gold  spectacles,  and  a  medal  of  some  kind  on 
his  breast." 

"Oh,  that  was  Dutchy,"  said  Fisher,  in  a 
tone  of  contempt.  "He's  our  fencing-master 
also.  Well,  he  will  make  the  case  against  you 
as  black  as  he  can,  and  if  he  were  the  one 
to  say  how  you  should  be  punished,  I  tell  you 
you  would  have  a  lively  time  of  it,  for  he  is 
a  regular  martinet.  The  President  is  a  very 
strict  disciplinarian,  but  he  hasn't  yet  forgotten 
that  he  was  once  a  boy  himself,  and  he  will 
probably  be  easy  with  you." 

"But  what  will  he  do?"  insisted  Bert. 
"That's  what  Don  and  I  want  to  know.  And 
if  he  is  going  to  punish  us  at  all,  why  doesn't  he 
say  so  ?  " 

"  Because  the  proper  time  has  not  yet  arrived. 
Wait  until  dress-parade  comes  off  to-night,  and 
then  you  will  find  out  all  about  it,  for  it  will 
be  published  in  general  orders." 

"  Before  the  whole  school  ?  "  cried  Bert. 

"  Of  course,"  answered  Clarence. 


DON   AND   BERT    HAVE   VISITORS.  79 

Bert  grew  very  red  in  the  face,  and  looked  at 
Don,  who,  in  turn,  stared  hard  at  Bert. 

"  It  is  nothing  to  worry  over,"  said  Fisher. 
"  Some  of  the  best  fellows  in  school  have  been 
gated  and  made  to  walk  extras  on  Saturday 
afternoons  with  packed  knapsacks,  and  that  is  all 
the  punishment  you  will  receive." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  '  gated '  ?  "  asked 
Don. 

"What  is  a  ' packed  knapsack'?"  inquired 
Bert. 

"  Why,  when  a  fellow  is  gated  he  is  confined 
inside  the  grounds,  and  not  allowed  to  go  out 
under  any  circumstances,"  replied  Clarence. 

"  But  he  can  go  out  all  the  same  if  he  feels 
like  it,"  said  Fisher,  with  a  laugh.  "I  never 
knew  a  fellow  to  stay  inside  the  grounds  simply 
because  he  was  gated,  unless  he  was  one  of  those 
milk  and  water  boys  who  hadn't  spirit  enough 
to  say  that  his  soul  was  his  own." 

"  How  can  he  get  out  ?  "  asked  Don. 

"He  can  run  the  guards.  Clarence  and  I 
have  done  it  many  a  time." 

"Were  you  never  caught  at  it?"  inquired 
Bert. 


80  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  Once  or  twice,  but  that  was  owing  to  our  own 
carelessness.  It  is  an  easy  thing  to  do  when  the 
right  kind  of  fellows  are  on  duty,  and  really  ex- 
citing when  the  posts  are  held  by  such  boys  as 
Blake  and  Walker,  and  others  of  that  sort. 
They're  a  mean  set.  They  are  always  on  the 
watch  for  a  chance  to  report  somebody,  because 
they  believe  that  that  is  the  way  to  gain  the 
good-will  of  the  teachers." 

"  And  a  packed  knapsack,"  continued  Clarence, 
"is  one  with  something  heavy  in  it,  such  as 
bricks  or  paving-stones.  When  you  are  called 
upon  to  walk  an  extra,  you  have  to  pace  up  and 
down  your  beat  for  four  hours  with  that  knap- 
sack on  your  back  and  a  musket  on  your  shoul- 
der." 

"  That  can't  be  very  pleasant,"  observed  Don. 

"  Well,  I  am  free  to  confess  that  it  isn't,"  re- 
turned Clarence,  "  and  it  is  all  owing  to  the 
way  the  thing  is  managed.  If  they  would  let 
us  perform  the  extra  duty  while  the  rest  of 
the  boys  were  drilling,  or  while  the  class  in 
geometry  was  reciting,  I  should  not  mind  it  in 
the  least.  But  you  see  they  won't  do  that. 
We  have  to  work  hard  all  the  week,  and  walk 


DON   AND   BERT    HAVE    VISITORS.  81 

our  extras  on  Saturday  afternoons  during  the 
hours  that  are  given  to  the  good  little  boys  for 
cricket,  ball-playing,  fishing,  target-shooting  and 
recreations  of  that  sort." 

"But  overstaying  our  time  was  not  the  only 
offence  of  which  we  were  guilty  last  night/' 
said  Don,  after  a  moment's  pause.  "When  we 
reached  our  room  we  struck  a  light,  and  I  sup- 
pose we  shall  be  reported  for  that." 

"•Of  course  you  will,"  said  Fisher.  "You 
had  no  business  to  have  a  light  in  your  room 
after  taps." 

"But  we  didn't  think,"  said  Bert.  "And, 
besides,  we  wanted  to  read  our  pass,  so  that  we 
might  know  just  what  we  had  done  that  was 
wrong." 

"  No  odds,"  exclaimed  Clarence.  "  No  excuse 
will  be  accepted.  You  will  probably  be  gated 
for  a  month." 

"  But  you  need  not  submit  to  the  restriction  of 
your  liberty  unless  you  feel  like  it,"  chimed  in 
Fisher.  "  Do  as  all  the  best  fellows  in  school  do 
— run  the  guard,  and  have  a  good  time  in  spite 
of  the  teachers/ 

"  Oh,  we'll  never  do  that,"  said  Bert,  quickly. 


82  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

"Will  we,  Don?  That  would  only  make  a 
bad  matter  worse." 

Don  looked  down  at  the  floor,  but  said  nothing. 
He  always  grew  restive  under  restraint,  and 
having  been  allowed  when  at  home  to  go  and 
come  as  he  pleased,  he  could  not  bear  the  thought 
of  being  confined  within  bounds.  If  Fisher  and 
Duncan  had  known  what  he  was  thinking  about 
just  then,  they  would  have  said  that  the  success 
of  the  plans  they  had  formed  the  night  before 
was  a  foregone  conclusion. 

"Well,  Gordon,"  said  Tom,  at  length,  "every- 
thing is  all  square  between  us,  I  hope." 

"Certainly  it  is,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned," 
answered  Don.  "  And  I  know  that  Arkwright 
does  not  bear  you  any  ill-will,  for  he  said  so. 
You  fellows  ought  to  make  matters  straight  with 
him,  for  he  is  true  blue.  He  took  a  good  deal 
of  pains  to  work  his  way  back  to  the  attic  without 
being  seen,  for  he  didn't  want  the  teachers  to 
know  what  you  had  done." 

"We'll  see  him  and  have  a  talk  with  him," 
said  Tom,  as  he  arose  from  the  bed  and  picked  up 
his  cap.  "  Perhaps  we  had  better  go,  Clarence. 
You  know  what  will  happen  to  us  if  we  fail  in  our 


DON   AND   BERT   HAVE   VISITORS.  83 

logic  to-morrow.  What  do  you  think  of  the 
prospect  ?  "  he  added,  as  soon  as  he  and  his  crony 
had  reached  their  own  dormitory  and  closed  the 
door  behind  them.  "  Will  he  bite  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,"  was  Duncan's  confident 
reply.  "  He  is  a  fellow  who  doesn't  like  to  be 
held  with  too  tight  a  rein — I  can  see  that  plainly 
enough  ;  but  Bert  is  a  different  sort  of  boy." 

"What  do  we  care  for  Bert  ?  "  exclaimed  Tom. 
"  Don  is  the  one  we  are  after." 

"  I  know  that,  and  I  know,  too,  that  we  could 
get  him  very  easily  if  his  brother  were  out  of  the 
way.  These  little  spooneys  sometimes  exert  a 
good  deal  of  influence  over  their  big  brothers,  and 
if  he  sets  his  face  against  us  and  our  plans,  our 
cake  will  be  turned  into  dough  in  short  order." 

"We  must  see  to  it  that  Don  doesn't  listen 
to  him,"  said  Tom.  "  We  have  done  all  we  can 
do  to-day.  We  have  given  him  an  idea,  and  now 
we  will  let  him  chew  on  it  for  a  while.  We 
mustn't  appear  to  be  too  eager,  you  know,  for  if 
we  give  him  the  least  reason  to  suspect  that  we 
are  putting  up  a  job  on  him,  it  is  my  opinion  that 
he  will  prove  an  unpleasant  fellow  to  have 
around." 


84  DON   GOKDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

As  Fisher  said  this  he  picked  up  his  logic,  in 
which  both  he  and  Duncan  had  failed  miserably 
that  day,  and  read  in  a  listless,  indifferent  tone — 

"What  is  true  with  limitations  is  frequently 
assumed  to  be  true  absolutely.  Thus — '  Dele- 
terious drugs  are  always  to  be  rejected  ;  opium  is 
a  deleterious  drug ;  therefore  opium  is  always  to 
be  rejected/  What's  wrong  with  that  reasoning, 
Clarence  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  and  I  don't  care,"  answered  the 
latter,  snatching  the  book  from  his  friend's  hand 
and  slamming  it  down  upon  the  table.  "  Let  it 
go  until  this  evening,  and  then  we  will  study  it 
together.  Let's  have  a  game  of  checkers  now, 
and  see  if  you  can  beat  me  as  badly  as  you  did 
the  last  time  we  played." 

"I  don't  much  like  those  fellows,  Don,"  said 
Bert,  when  Fisher  and  Duncan  had  taken  their 
leave. 

"  I  can't  see  what  there  is  wrong  about  them," 
replied  Don,  who  knew  in  a  moment  what  his 
brother  meant.  "  I  am  sure  they  acted  very 
honorably  in  coming  here  to  make  things  right 
with  us." 

"I  have  nothing  to  say  against  that,"   Bert 


DON  AND   BERT   HAVE   VISITORS.  85 

hastened  to  answer.  "  But  I  don't  like  to  hear 
them  talk  so  glibly  about  disobeying  the  rules." 

"  I  don't  know  that  that  is  any  business  of 
yours  or  mine  either,"  said  Don,  rather  impa- 
tiently. "If  they  are  willing  to  take  the  risk, 
and  abide  the  consequences  if  they  are  detected, 
that  is  their  own  affair.  You  needn't  do  it." 

"  I ! "  exclaimed  Bert,  in  great  amazement. 
"  You  may  be  sure  that  I  have  no  intention  of 
doing  anything  of  the  kind,  and  I  hope  you 
haven't,  either." 

"  You  need  not  waste  any  valuable  time  in 
worrying  about  me.  I  am  able  to  look  out  for 
myself.  But  I'll  tell  you  what's  a  fact,  Bert :  I 
don't  think  as  much  of  this  military  business  as 
I  did  a  few  weeks  ago.  If  I  were  only  back  home 
with  my  pony,  dogs  and  guns,  I  tell  you  I  would 
stay  there.  I  feel  more  like  going  out  in  the 
woods  and  knocking  over  a  wild  turkey  than  I  do 
like  sitting  here  in  this  gloomy  room  preparing 
for  to-morrow's  recitations." 

Don  opened  one  of  the  books  that  lay  upon  the 
table,  but  the  page  on  which  he  fastened  his  eyes 
might  have  been  blank  for  all  he  saw  there.  His 
mind  was  not  upon  the  work  that  demanded  his 


86  DON    GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

attention.  He  was  thinking  over  his  recent  inter- 
view with  Fisher  and  Duncan. 

"  I  wonder  if  they  pass  their  evenings  at  Cony 
Ryan's  when  they  run  the  guards  ? "  said  Don 
to  himself.  "  I  wonder,  too,  if  Cony's  hotel,  or 
whatever  he  calls  it,  was  in  existence  when  my 
father  attended  this  school,  and  if  he  went  there 
to  eat  pancakes.  If  he  did,  I  don't  see  how  he 
can  find  any  fault  with  me  if  I  go  there.  Tom 
and  Clarence  don't  seem  to  be  such  a  bad  lot,  and 
it  is  nothing  more  than  fair  that  I  should  meet 
their  advances  half  way/' 

When  the  hour  for  recreation  came,  Don  did 
something  he  had  never  done  before  in  his  life. 
Watching  his  opportunity  he  slipped  away  from 
Bert  and  set  out  to  hunt  up  Fisher  and  Duncan. 
He  did  not  have  much  trouble  in  finding  them, 
for  they  also  were  looking  for  him.  After  return- 
ing his'  salute  they  slipped  their  arms  through  his 
and  led  him  toward  the  gymnasium. 

"  You  are  a  stranger  here,"  said  Clarence, 
"and  as  we  know  you  must  be  lonely  we  will 
introduce  you  to  the  boys  in  our  set,  if  you  would 
like  to  know  them." 

"  You  will  find  them  all  tip-top  fellows,"  added 


DON   AND   BERT    HAVE   VISITORS.  87 

Tom.  "  You  see,  there  is  a  little  crowd  of  us  who 
run  together,  and  somehow  we  manage  to  have 
good  times.  There  are  some  boys  here,  however, 
with  whom  we  never  have  anything  to  do.  We 
will  point  them  out  to  you  as  fast  as  we  can,  so 
that  you  can  steer  clear  of  them." 

"They  are  high-toned  lads,"  said  Clarence, 
"  and  won't  associate  with  any  but  the  members 
of  their  own  class.  Some  of  them  are  preparing 
for  West  Point.  They  pride  themselves  on  being 
soldiers  all  over  ;  and  if  they  can't  prove  their 
soldierly  qualities  in  any  other  way,  they  will 
report  somebody." 

"Where's  your  brother?"  asked  Tom,  sud- 
denly. 

Don  replied  that  he  didn't  know  where  he 
was. 

"I  rather  fancied  that  he  didn't  exactly  like 
what  we  said  about  running  the  guard  a  while 
ago,"  continued  Tom.  "  Did  he  ?  " 

"No,  he  didn't.  He  wouldn't  think  of  doing 
such  a  thing." 

"  Well,  then,  he  can  make  up  his  mind  to  be 
gated  on  an  average  of  once  a  month  as  long  as 
he  stays  here  ;  for  no  matter  how  hard  he  tries,  he 


88  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

can't  help  breaking  some  of  the  rules.  If  he  has 
a  mind  to  submit  to  confinement — why,  that's  his 
business  and  not  mine." 

"  I  haven't  done  it  since  I  have  been  here," 
said  Fisher,  emphatically ;  "  and,  what's  more,  I 
won't." 

"  Where  do  you  go  when  you  run  the  guard  ?  " 

"  Anywhere  we  please.  Sometimes  we  spend 
an  hour  or  two  in  skating  or  sleigh-riding,  and 
when  we  get  tired  of  that,  we  go  down  to  Cony 
Ryan's  after  pancakes  and  mince-pies." 

"  I  don't,  for  the  life  of  me,  see  how  you  can 
get  out,"  said  Don.  "There  are  sentries  all 
around  the  grounds." 

"  It  does  require  some  skill  and  cunning,  that's 
a  fact,  especially  when  fellows  who  don't  like  you 
happen  to  be  on  duty.  But  if  the  members  of 
your  own  set  are  on  post,  it  is  easy  enough.  All 
you  have  to  do  is  to  give  them  notice  of  your  com- 
ing, and  they  will  turn  their  backs  until  you  can 
creep  by  them." 

"  Go  with  us  to-night,  and  we  will  show  you 
how  it  is  done,"  said  Fisher. 

"That's  so!"  exclaimed  Clarence,  as  if  the 
idea  had  just  been  suggested  to  him.  "It  will 


DON   AND   BERT   HAVE   VISITORS.  89 

be  a  'good  time  ;  another  like  it  may  not  occur 
for  a  month.  Will  you  do  it,  Gordon  ?  *  I  dare 
you." 

"  It  is  a  common  saying  in  my  country  that  a 
man  who  will  take  a  dare  will  steal  sheep,"  said 
Don. 

"Of  course  he  will,"  answered  Clarence.  "I 
knew  we  had  not  been  mistaken  in  you." 

"  We  haven't  had  any  of  Cony's  pies  and  pan- 
cakes this  winter,"  continued  Tom,  "  and  we  are 
getting  hungry  for  some.  I  have  taken  particular 
pains  to  find  out  who  the  sentries  are,  and  I  know 
that  some  of  them  are  good  men  and  true.  There 
are  some  of  our  boys  now.  Come  on,  Gordon,  and 
we  will  make  you  acquainted  with  them." 

They  had  by  this  time  entered  the  gymnasium, 
— a  large  building  which  stood  a  little  apart  from 
the  academy,  and  was  fitted  up  with  all  the 
appliances  that  are  supposed  to  be  necessary  or 
useful  in  such  institutions.  It  was  filled  with 
students  who  were  exercising  their  muscles  in 
various  ways,  and  among  them  Don  recognized 
some  of  the  boys  who  had  composed  the  hazing 
party.  Don  was  introduced  to  them  one  after 
another,  and  was  welcomed  by  them  in  the  most 


90  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

cordial  manner.  They  spent  a  few  minifies  in 
talking  and  laughing  over  the  incidents  of  the 
previous  night ;  and  then,  at  a  sign  from  Fisher, 
they  drew  off  on  one  side  so  that  they  could  carry 
on  their  conversation  without  danger  of  being 
overheard  by  those  who  did  not  belong  to  their 
"  set." 

"  Fellows,  Gordon  is  one  of  us  ;  Duncan  and  I 
vouch  for  him  ;  so  you  need  not  hesitate  to  speak 
freely  in  his  presence,"  said  Tom,  again  taking  up 
the  subject  that  just  then  was  nearest  his  heart. 
"  Do  we  go  to  Cony  Ryan's  to-night  or  not  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  replied  all  the  boys,  in  chorus. 

"  Then  that  much  is  settled.  I  know  who  the 
guards  are,"  he  added,  turning  to  Don,  "and  I 
will  see  you  safely  out  and  back.  As  soon  as  we 
are  out  of  the  building " 

"  But  how  am  I  going  to  get  out  ?  "  interrupted 
Don.  "  You  forget  the  sentry  who  has  charge  of 
our  floor." 

"  No,  I  don't.  Here  he  is,"  said  Tom,  taking 
by  the  arm  a  boy  who  had  been  introduced  as 
Charley  Porter.  "  You  won't  stop  him,  will  you, 
Charley  ?  " 

"  I  shall  not  know  when  he  goes  out,"  was  the 


DON   AND   BERT    HAVE   VISITORS.  91 

ready  answer.  "  I  can  be  both  blind  and  deaf 
when  circumstances  require  that  I  should  be  so." 

"  You  see  what  kind  of  fellows  we  are,"  said 
Torn.  "  You  will  never  be  reported  for  having  a 
light  after  taps,  or  for  any  other  offence,  by  one 
of  us." 

Tom  then  went  on  to  tell  Don  just  what  he 
must  do  in  order  to  make  his  undertaking  success- 
ful, and,  aided  by  his  friends,  who  put  in  a  word 
now  and  then,  succeeded  in  making  him  believe 
that  Cony  Ryan's  was  but  little  short  of  a  para- 
dise, and  that  he  (Tom)  and  his  "  set "  had  done 
him  a  great  favor  in  bringing  the  house  and  its 
proprietor  to  his  notice.  He  promised  to  be  on 
hand  at  the  hour  appointed,  and  then  he  and 
Tom  went  into  the  dressing-room  to  put  on  their 
gymnastic  suits,  while  Duncan  hurried  away  to 
carry  out  an  idea  of  his  own  that  had  suddenly 
suggested  itself  to  him. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

CONY  RYAN'S  PANCAKES. 

"  ITE  did  bite,  didn't  he  ? "  said  Duncan  to 
himself,  as  he  hurried  about  the  grounds  and 
through  the  academy  building  looking  everywhere 
for  Dick  Henderson.  "  He  jumped  at  the  bait 
quicker  than  I  thought  he  would  ;  but  he  never 
would  have  done  it  if  he  had  not  got  himself 
into  trouble  last  night.  That  made  him  mad, 
and  now  he  don't  much  care  what  he  does. 
We'll  fix  him.  A  court-martial  and  extra  les- 
sons and  guard  duty  and  drills  for  a  whole 
month  will  so  disgust  him  with  this  school  that 
he  will  clear  out,  and  we  shall  be  well  rid  of 
him." 

Duncan  soon  found  the  boy  of  whom  he  was 
in  search,  and  the  following  is  a  part  of  the  con- 
versation that  took  place  between  them  : 

"You  are  on  post  No.  5,  down  there  at  the 
north  side  of  the  grounds  to-night,  are  you 
not  ?  "  said  Duncan. 


CONY   RYAN'S   PANCAKES.  93 

Dick  replied  that  he  was,  that  he  went  on  at 
midnight. 

"  Well,  you  know  that  the  boys  are  going  down 
to  Cony  Kyan's  to-night,  don't  you  ?  "  continued 
Clarence. 

Yes,  Dick  knew  all  about  it,  and  stood  ready 
to  help  them  in  every  way  he  could,  without  get- 
ting himself  into  trouble. 

"  Well,"  said  Duncan,  again,  "  Don  Gordon  is 
going  with  us." 

Dick  seemed  delighted  to  hear  it. 

"We  roped  him  in  just  as  easy  as  falling 
off  a  log,"  Clarence  went  on.  "  He  has  been 
introduced  to  some  of  the  fellows,  and  Fisher 
and  I  have  worked  things  so  nicely  that  he 
doesn't  suspect  anything.  Now  you  must  be 
on  the  alert  to  catch  him  when  we  come  back, 
which  will  be  some  time  between  one  and  four 
o'clock." 

"How  shall  I  know  him  from  the  rest  of 
you  ?  " 

"  By  the  signal,  of  course.  Have  you  forgotten 
that  ?  "  Here  Duncan  coughed  slightly,  and  in 
a  peculiar  manner. 

"No,  I  haven't  forgotten  it.     I  only  want  to 


94        DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

know  just  how  things  are  going  to  be  managed, 
so  that  I  shall  not  make  any  mistakes.  It 
would  be  awkward,  you  know,  if  I  should  call 
the  corporal  of  the  guard  to  arrest  the  wrong 
fellow." 

"  You  musn't  do  that,"  said  Duncan,  quickly. 
"It  would  be  much  better  to  let  Gordon  pass 
unchallenged  with  the  rest  of  us.  You  know 
we  boys  got  ourselves  into  lots  of  trouble  last 
term,  and  if  we  don't  keep  our  names  off  the 
black-list  from  this  time  on,  we  stand  a  good 
chance  of  being  sent  down/' 

(By  being  "  sent  down  "  Duncan  meant  "  ex- 
pelled.") 

"All  right,"  said  Dick.  "I  know  just  what 
you  want  of  me.  Do  everything  just  as  it  was 
done  last  term,  and  I  will  see  that  our  boys 
get  safely  through,  and  that  Don  Gordon  comes 
in  for  a  court-martial." 

When  the  hour  for  dress-parade  arrived  the 
classes  were  marched  to  the  drill-room  by  their 
respective  captains,  three  of  them  being  drawn 
up  in  line,  while  the  Plebes  were  stationed  at 
one  end  of  the  room  so  that  they  could  watch  the 
movements  of  their  comrades,  and  learn  some- 


CONY    RYAN'S    PANCAKES.  95 

•thing  of  the  duties  that  would  be  required  of 
them  when  they  were  well  enough  drilled  in  the 
manual  of  arms  and  school  of  the  company  to 
go  on  parade  themselves.  There  were  two  of 
them  who  did  not  pay  much  attention  to  the 
proceedings,  although  they  appeared  to  watch 
them  closely,  and  they  were  Don  and  Bert 
Gordon.  They  noticed  that  the  adjutant  carried 
some  papers  in  his  belt,  and  they  knew  instinc- 
tively that  one  of  them  contained  something  that 
would  prove  to  be  of  interest  to  them. 

In  obedience  to  the  adjutant's  order,  the  cap- 
tains brought  their  companies  to  "  parade  rest," 
the  band  "  sounded  off,"  a  few  exercises  in  the 
manual  of  arms  were  gone  through  with,  and  then 
came  the  command  :  "  Attention  to  orders."  Don 
listened,  and  heard  his  name  and  Bert's  read  off 
in  connection  with  tluo.se  of  three  or  four  other 
culprits,  who  were  ordered  to  be  punished  accord- 
ing to  their  deserts.  It  was  ordered  that  privates 
Donald  and  Hubert  Gordon^  for  overstaying  their 
time,  and  having  a  light  burning  in  their  quar- 
ters after  taps  (this  being  their  second  offence), 
be  deprived  of  liberty  for  thirty  days,  and  re- 
quired to  stand  guard  for  four  hours  on  the 


96  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

ensuing  Saturday  afternoon  with  packed  knap- 
sacks. Then  the  parade  was  dismissed,  the  band 
struck  up  a  lively  tune,  the  officers  advanced 
to  salute  the  commander  of  the  battalion,  and 
the  first  sergeants  marched  their  companies  to 
the  armory,  where  ranks  were  broken. 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  just  how  it  would  be  ? " 
whispered  Fisher,  who  happened  to  overtake 
Don  while  the  latter  was  on  his  way  to  his 
room.  "  It's  no  trouble  at  all  to  stand  an  extra, 
for  it  is  over  with  in  four  hours ;  and  as  for 
depriving  you  of  your  liberty — that's  all  in  my 
one  eye.  You  can  see  much  more  fun  with- 
out a  pass  than  you  can  with  one,  for  you  are 
not  obliged  to  return  at  any  specified  time." 

"I  don't  mind  the  punishment  as  much  as  I 
do  the  disgrace,"  said  Don. 

"  Disgrace  ! "  echoed  Fisher.  "  Nonsense.  This 
has  been  a  military  school  for  half  a  century  or 
more,  and  of  the  thousands  of  students  who  have 
been  graduated  here,  there  are  not  a  hundred  who 
did  not,  at  some  time  or  another,  break  some 
rule,  and  get  punished  for  it.  Why,  my  own 
father  used  to  run  the  guard." 

"  So  did  mine,"  said  Don. 


CONY   RYAN'S   PANCAKES.  97 

"  Your  father  ! "  exclaimed  Tom,  in  great  sur- 
prise. "  Did  he  ever  attend  this  school  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  he  received  a  military  education  and 
prepared  for  college  here." 

"  I  am  surprised  to  hear  it.  Well,  he  didn't 
get  through  the  whole  course  without  being 
hauled  up  occasionally,  did  he  ?  I  just  know  he 
didn't,  if  he  was  a  boy  who  had  any  spirit  in 
him.  Now,  as  I  may  not  see  you  again  until 
the  time  for  action  arrives,  I  want  to  know  if 
you  understand  just  what  you  have  to  do." 

Don  answered  that  he  was  sure  he  did,  and 
then  went  on  to  repeat  the  instructions  he  had 
received  in  the  gymnasium.  When  he  had  fin- 
ished, Fisher  gave  him  an  approving  wink  and 
nod.  and  left  him. 

During  the  evening  Don  and  Bert  did  very  little 
studying.  The  latter  took  his  punishment  very 
much  to  heart;  and  asked  himself  over  and  over 
what  his  mother  would  think  when  she  heard  of 
it ;  while  Don  was  so  busy  thinking  of  the  festiv- 
ities that  were  to  come  off  at  Cony  Ryan's,  that 
he  could  not  have  concentrated  his  mind  on  his 
books  if  he  had  tried.  When  taps  were  sounded 
the  light  went  out  instanter. 


98  DON    GORDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  1  shall  never  get  into  trouble  for  that  again," 
said  Don,  as  he  tumbled  into  bed,  after  bidding 
his  brother  good-night.  "  The  next  time  I  am 
reported,  it  will  be  for  something  that  is  worth 
reporting." 

Don  began  to  be  excited  now.  He  had  been 
instructed  to  wait  twenty  minutes,  as  near  as  he 
could  guess  at  it,  in  order  to  give  the  officer  of  the 
day  time  to  make  his  rounds,  which  he  did  as 
often  as  the  huge  bell  in  the  cupola  tolled  the 
hours.  He  knew  when  the  officer  ascended  the 
stairs,  heard  him  talking  with  the  sentry  who  had 
charge  of  that  floor,  and  breathed  easier  when  he 
went  down  again — but  only  for  a  moment,  for 
now  something  that  appeared  to  be  an  insur- 
mountable obstacle  arose  before  him  all  on  a 
sudden.  The  sensitive  Bert  was  sadly  troubled, 
and  when  he  got  that  way,  it  was  almost  impossi- 
ble for  him  to  go  to  sleep.  In  case  he  remained 
awake  until  the  expiration  of  the  twenty  minutes, 
what  could  Don  do  ? 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,"  soliloquized  the 
latter,  his  ears  telling  him  the  while  that  Bert 
was  tossing  restlessly  about  on  his  bed.  "It 
would  be  simply  impossible  for  me  to  get  up 


CONY    RYAN'S   PANCAKES.  99 

and  dress  and  slip  out  of  the  room  without  his 
knowledge.  Of  course  I  might  go  out  openly  and 
above  board,  for  I  know  that  he  would  never  blow 
on  me  ;  but  if  I  do  that,  he  will  improve  every  op- 
portunity to  lecture  me,  and  I  would  rather  spend 
every  Saturday  afternoon  in  walking  extras  than 
listen  to  him.  I  ought  to  have  told  the  fellows 
to  allow  me  at  least  an  hour." 

While  Don  was  busy  with  such  reflections  as 
these,  and  trying  in  vain  to  conjure  up  some  plan 
for  leaving  the  room  without  attracting  his 
brother's  attention,  he  was  electrified  by  a  gentle 
snore  which  came  from  the  direction  of  Bert's  bed. 
Don  thought  it  was  a  pleasant  sound  to  hear  just 
then,  for  it  told  him  that  the  way  was  clear.  In 
an  instant  he  was  out  on  the  floor,  and  in  five 
minutes  more  he  was  dressed.  After  wrapping 
one  of  his  pillows  up  in  the  quilts  and  arranging 
them  as  well  as  he  could  in  the  dark,  so  that  they 
would  bear  some  resemblance  to  a  human  figure, 
he  walked  across  the  room  with  noiseless  steps 
and  cautiously  opened  the  door.  The  hall  was 
lighted  up  by  a  single  gas-burner,  under  which 
the  sentry,  Charley  Porter,  sat  reading  a  book. 
He  looked  up  when  he  heard  Don's  door  grating 


100  DON  GOKDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

on  its  hinges  ;  but  he  did  not  look  Don's  way.  He 
turned  his  eyes  in  the  other  direction.  Then  he 
laid  down  his  book,  got  upon  his  feet,  and  walking 
leisurely  along  the  hall  with  his  hands  behind 
his  back,  took  his  stand  in  front  of  a  window,  and 
looked  out  into  the  darkness.  His  back  was 
turned  toward  Don,  who  closed  the  door  of  his 
room  behind  him,  moved  along  the  hall  on  tip- 
toe, and  dodging  around  an  angle  in  the  wall,  was 
quickly  out  of  sight.  A  few  hurried  steps  brought 
him  to  another  door,  which  yielded  to  his  touch, 
and  then  Don  found  himself  in  utter  darkness. 

This  door  gave  access  to  the  back  stairs,  which 
ran  from  the  ground  floor  to  the  upper  story  of 
the  building,  and  were  intended  to  be  used  only 
as  a  fire-escape.  The  doors  that  opened  into  it — • 
there  was  one  on  each  floor — were  kept  locked, 
and  all  the  keys  that  rightfully  belonged  to  them 
were  hung  up  on  a  nail  in  the  superintendent's 
room,  where  they  could  be  readily  found  by  the 
teachers  in  case  circumstances  required  that  they 
should  be  brought  into  use.  The  superintendent 
was  happy  in  the  belief  that  by  placing  a  sentry 
in  charge  of  the  dormitories  on  each  floor,  and 
keeping  the  keys  of  these  doors  under  his  eye  all 


CONY   RYAN'S   PANCAKES.  101 

the  time,  he  had  put  it  out  of  the  power  of  any 
student  to. leave  the  building  during  the  night; 
but  he  had  not  taken  into  consideration  the  fact 
that  sentries  may  sometimes  prove  false  to  their 
duty,  and  that  an  old  rusty  key,  picked  up  in  the 
yard,  can,  by  the  aid  of  a  file  and  a  little  ingenu- 
ity, be  made  to  fit  almost  any  lock.  Tom  Fisher 
and  his  friends  all  had  keys  that  would  open  these 
doors,  and  Don  had  resolved  that  he  would  have 
one  too. 

"  B-1-e-r-s,"  whispered  Don,  as  he  stepped  out 
into  the  fire-escape. 

"  R-a-m,"  came  the  response,  in  the  same  low 
whisper. 

The  pass- word  of  the  band  of  worthies  to  which 
Don  now  belonged  was  "  Ramblers."  Of  course 
it  was  used  only  in  the  dark,  or  when  the  mem- 
bers could  not  see  each  other.  If  a  boy  desired 
to  know  whether  or  not  a  student  whom  he  sud- 
denly encountered  in  some  out-of-the-way  place 
was  a  friend,  all  he  had  to  do  was  to  spell  the  last 
-syllable  of  the  pass-word,  as  Don  had  done  ;  and 
if  he  received  the  same  answer  that  Don  did,  he 
knew  at  once  that  he  had  found  some  one  who 
could  be  depended  on.  At  least  that  was  what 


102  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

Fisher  and  Duncan  told  Don  ;  but  the  reader 
already  knows  that  they  did  not  tell  him  the 
truth. 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  whispered  Don. 

"  Fisher,"  replied  the  owner  of  that  name ; 
and  as  he  spoke  he  stepped  forward  to  lock  the 
door. 

"  Hadn't  you  better  leave  it  unfastened  ?  " 
asked  Don. 

"Not  by  a  great  sight/'  answered  Fisher,  quickly. 
"  The  officer  of  the  day  and  the  corporal  on  duty 
try  all  these  doors  every  time  they  make  their 
rounds,  and  if  they  should  happen  to  find  one  of 
them  unlocked,  good-by  to  all  our  hopes  of  eating 
pies  and  pancakes  at  Cony  Ryan's  again  this  winter." 

"  Then  how  can  I  get  back  to  my  room  ?  " 

"Why,  I  shall  be  here  to  open  the  door  for 
you." 

"  But  we  might  get  separated,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  no  we  won't,"  answered  Tom,  confidently. 
"  Don't  you  be  at  all  uneasy  on  that  score. 
Duncan  and  I  will  stand  by  you.  Come  on,  now; 
the  boys  are  all  ready  and  waiting." 

"  How  fearful  dark  it  is,"  said  Don.  "  I  can't 
see  my  hand  before  me." 


CONY  RYAN'S  PANCAKES.         103 

"  Neither  can  I ;  but  I  have  been  through  here 
so  often  that  I  know  every  step  of  the  way.  Give 
me  your  hand." 

Fisher  took  Don  in  tow  and  succeeded  in  con- 
ducting him  safely  down  two  flights  of  stairs — it 
afterward  proved  to  be  a  fortunate  thing  for  Don 
that  he  remembered  that — and  out  into  the  yard 
where  Duncan  and  the  rest  were  waiting  for  them. 
After  greeting  Don  in  the  most  cordial  manner 
they  moved  off  in  a  body  toward  the  north  corner 
of  the  grounds — all  except  Tom  Fisher,  who  went 
on  ahead  to  notify  the  sentry  of  their  approach. 
This  he  did  in  some  mysterious  way,  and  without 
alarming  any  of  the  guards  on  the  neighboring 
posts  ;  and  the  boy,  who  ought  to  have  called  the 
corporal  of  the  guard  at  once,  went  into  his  box 
and  stayed  there  until  Tom  and  his  companions 
had  crossed  his  beat  and  were  out  of  sight.  They 
easily  found  the  place  where  two  of  the  tall  fence 
pickets  had  been  loosened  at  the  bottom,  and 
pushing  these  aside  they  crept  through  the 
opening  into  the  road. 

"  Well,  Gordon,  that  wasn't  such  a  very  hard 
thing  to  do,  was  it  ?  "  said  Duncan,  as  he  took 
off  his  overcoat  and  shook  the  snow  out  of  it. 


104  DON    GOEDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX. 

"No,"  answered  Don,  "and  I  don't  see  much 
fun  in  it,  either.  It  is  not  a  very  smart  thing  to 
crawl  by  a  sentry  who  is  accommodating  enough 
to  keep  out  of  sight  until  you  have  had  time  to 
get  out  of  harm's  way.  There's  no  excitement  in 
it — anybody  could  do  it.  If  that  guard  had  been 
faithful  to  his  trust,  I  should  think  we  had  done 
something  worth  bragging  about." 

"  O,  you  want  excitement,  do  you  ?  "  exclaimed 
Duncan.  "  You  want  a  chance  to  run  by  some 
spooney  who  would  be  only  too  glad  to  report  you 
and  get  you  into  a  row,  don't  you  ?  All  right. 
We'll  see  that  you  get  the  chance,  and  very 
shortly,  too ;  won't  we,  boys  ?  " 

"  Yes/'  replied  all  the  boys,  in  concert. 

"And,  unless  I  am  very  badly  mistaken,  you 
will  see  quite  as  much  excitement  as  you  want 
to-night,"  added  Duncan,  to  himself.  "  If  Dick 
Henderson  does  his  duty,  you  will  be  under  arrest 
and  a  candidate  for  a  court-martial  before  you  see 
the  inside  of  your  dormitory  again." 

During  the  walk  to  the  big  pond,  near  which 
Cony  Kyan's  house  stood,  Don's  new  friends  enter- 
tained him  with  many  thrilling  stories  of  the  deeds 
of  daring  that  had  been  performed  by  themselves 


CONY    RYAN'S   PANCAKES.  105 

and  former  students,  such  as  running  the  guard 
when  all  the  posts  were  occupied  by  those  who 
were  not  friendly  to  them  ;  stealing  the  bell-rope 
when  the  cupola  was  guarded  by  some  of  the  best 
soldiers  in  the  academy  ;  turning  the  bell  upside 
down  on  a  cold  night,  filling  it  with  water  and 
allowing  it  to  freeze  solid  ;  and  spiking  the  gun 
whose  unwelcome  booming  aroused  them  at  so 
early  an  hour  every  morning.  As  Don  listened  he 
began  to  grow  excited  ;  and  when  there  was  a 
little  lull  in  the  conversation,  he  proposed  one  or 
two  daring  schemes  of  his  own  that  had  suddenly 
occurred  to  him,  and  which  were  so  far  ahead  of 
any  his  auditors  had  ever  engaged  in,  that  they 
could  hardly  believe  he  was  in  earnest. 

"  Gordon,  you  see  around  you  a  lot  of  fellows 
who  never  have  and  never  will  back  down  from 
any  reasonable  undertaking,"  said  Tom  Fisher. 
"  But  the  idea  of  stealing  a  cow,  taking  her  into 
the  grounds  and  hoisting  her  up  to  the  top  of  the 
belfry,  overpowering  and  binding  every  sentry 
who  stands  in  our  way — Great  Caasar's  ghost ! 
Gordon,  you  must  be  taking  leave  of  your  senses." 

"  And  as  for  taking  the  butcher's  big  bull-dog 
up  to  the  top  story  of  the  building,  tying  a  tin  can 


106  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

to  his  tail,  and  starting  him  on  a  run  down  four 
pairs  of  stairs  and  through  the  halls— that's 
another  thing  I  don't  approve  of,"  said  Duncan. 

"  I  guess  not,"  said  another  of  the  fellows. 
"  I  wouldn't  touch  that  dog  for  a  million  dollars. 
We  are  in  for  anything  new  that  promises  to  be 
either  interesting  or  exciting,  hut,  as  Tom  says,  it 
must  be  something  reasonable.  Think  up  some 
other  plans." 

The  boys  had  by  this  time  reached  Cony  Ryan's 
house.  Led  by  Tom  Fisher  they  mounted  the 
steps,  and  passing  through  a  narrow  hall  entered 
a  neatly  furnished  little  parlor  whose  walls,  could 
they  have  found  tongues,  would  have  told  some 
strange  and  amusing  stories  of  the  scenes  that 
had  been  enacted  there.  It  was  brilliantly 
lighted,  and  a  cheerful  fire  burned  in  the  grate. 

"  This  looks  as  though  Cony  was  expecting  us, 
doesn't  it  ?  "  said  Tom,  gazing  about  the  room 
with  a  smile  of  satisfaction.  "  Take  off  your 
overcoat,  Gordon,  and  sit  down.  Make  yourself 
at  home." 

"Do  you  know,"  added  Duncan,  "that  this 
house  was  built  and  furnished  with  the  money 
that  the  academy  boys  have  put  into  Cony's 


CONY    EYAN'S   PANCAKES.  107 

pocket  ?  Years  ago,  when  he  was  nothing  but  a 
poor  fisherman  and  lived  down  there  on  the  bank 
of  the  river  in  a  little  shanty  about  half  the  size 
of  this  room,  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  might 
turn  an  honest  penny  by  supplying  the  students 
with  milk  and  pies.  He  drove  a  thriving  trade 
until  some  of  the  teachers  began  to  suspect  that 
he  was  putting  something  stronger  than  water  in 
his  milk,  and  then  they  shut  down  on  him  and  he 
was  forbidden  to  enter  the  grounds.  But  that 
didn't  trouble  him  any.  The  boys  had  got  in  the 
habit  of  spending  their  extra  dimes  with  him,  and 
since  he  couldn't  come  to  them  any  more,  they 
fell  into  the  way  of  going  to  him.  Why,  Gordon, 
if  you  could  look  over  some  of  his  old  registers, 
you  would  find  in  them  the  names  of  men  who 
are  known  all  over  the  land." 

Just  then  a  side  door  opened,  admitting  a 
portly,  white-bearded  old  fellow,  dressed  in  a 
modest  suit  of  black,  who  was  greeted  by  the 
students  in  the  most  uproarious  manner.  They 
crowded  around  him,  all  trying  to  shake  his 
hands  at  the  same  time,  while  Cony,  for  it  was 
he,  beamed  benevolently  upon  them  over  his 
spectacles.  This  was  the  first  time  he  had 


108  DON  GOKDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

seen  any  of  them  since  the  close  of  the  last  school 
term. 

"  You  see  we  are  all  on  hand  again,  Cony/'  said 
Duncan,  when  the  greetings  were  over.  "  And  if 
you  will  trot  out  a  few  plates  of  your  pancakes, 
you  will  find  that  we  are  as  hungry  as  ever.  By 
the  way,  did  you  know  a  boy  of  the  name  of  Gor- 
don who  used  to  attend  this  academy  ?  " 

"  Gordon  of  Mississippi  ?  "  exclaimed  Cony, 
who,  having  a  retentive  memory,  never  forgot 
the  names  of  any  of  his  patrons.  "I  should 
say  so.  He  has  spent  many  a  pleasant  even- 
ing in  this  room." 

"Well,  here  is  one  of  his  boys,"  continued 
Duncan.  "Mr.  Ryan,  Mr.  Donald  Gordon." 

The  old  fellow  was  very  much  surprised. 

"It  doesn't  seem  possible,"  said  he,  as  lie 
shook  Don's  hand  and  gave  him  a  good  looking 
over.  "  He  is  the  very  image  of  his  father,  who 
was  one  of  the  finest-looking  young  soldiers  I 
ever  put  my  eyes  on.  Mercy  on  us,  how  time 
does  fly ! " 

"Say,  Cony,"  said  Tom  Fisher,  coaxingly, 
"can't  we  have  just  one  game  of  'sell  out,'  to- 
night ?  " 


CONY  RYAN'S  PANCAKES.  109 

"  No,  sir,"  was  the  emphatic  reply.  "  You  can 
have  all  the  pancakes  you  want,  and  as  much 
sweet  milk  or  buttermilk  as  you  can  hold,  but 
you  don't  turn  a  card  in  this  house.  It  is  bad 
enough  for  you  to  run  the  guard,  and  if  I  did 
my  duty,  I  should  report  the  last  one  of  you  in 
the  morning." 

"Suppose  you  trot  out  the  pancakes  and 
milk,  and  let  somebody  else  report  us/-'  sug- 
gested Don. 

"  Yes  ;  that's  the  idea,"  cried  the  others,  with 
one  voice. 

Don  thought  he  enjoyed  himself  that  night, 
and  his  companions  thought  so,  too,  for  he 
sang  as  many  songs,  told  as  many  stories,  and 
laughed  as  heartily  as  any  of  them.  He 
listened  with  much  interest  while  Cony  told  of 
the  exploits  of  the  students  he  had  known  in  the 
years  gone  by,  and  who  had  since  made  them- 
selves famous  as  lawyers,  legislators  and  soldiers, 
and  was  greatly  astonished  when  Tom  Fisher 
jumped  to  his  feet  with  his  watch  in  his  hand 
and  a  look  of  alarm  on  his  face. 

"Fellows,"  said  he,  "where  has  the  night 
gone  ?  It  is  half-past  three,  and  we  have  just 


110  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

half  an  hour  in  which  to  crawl  by  Dick  Hender- 
son's post  and  get  into  bed.  If  we  are  two 
minutes  behind  time  we  are  a  gone  community." 

This  startling  announcement  broke  up  the  party 
at  once.  The  boys  made  a  simultaneous  rush  for 
their  overcoats  and  caps,  and  after  Don  had  set- 
tled their  bill — a  proceeding  on  his  part  that  raised 
him  to  a  high  place  in  the  estimation  of  some 
of  the  students  whose  parents  did  not  think  it 
best  to  give  them  a  very  liberal  allowance  of 
spending  money — they  dashed  out  of  the  house 
and  started  for  the  academy  on  a  dead  run, 
Duncan  and  Don  Gordon  bringing  up  the  rear. 
If  the  latter  had  known  what  the  boy  who  kept 
so  close  to  his  elbow  was  thinking  about,  he 
would  have  thrown  him  headlong  into  the  nearest 
snow-drift. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

RUNNING   THE    GUARD. 

boys,"  said  Tom  Fisher,  "one  at  a 
time,  but  remember  lively  is  the  word. 
Gordon,  you  had  better  stay  back  and  watch  the 
rest  of  us,  and  then  you  will  know  how  to  pro- 
ceed when  your  turn  comes.  We  are  not  afraid 
of  Henderson,  but  still  we  don't  want  to  show 
ourselves  to  him  too  plainly,  for  fear  that  the 
corporal  of  the  guard  or  the  officer  of  the  day 
may  be  loafing  around  somewhere  within  sight 
of  his  post/' 

They  had  now  reached  the  academy  grounds, 
and  half  the  time  at  their  disposal  had  already 
been  consumed.  They  had  barely  fifteen  minutes 
left,  and  haste  was  necessary.  As  matters  stood, 
all  the  floors  and  one  of  the  outside  beats  were 
in  charge  of  boys  who  had  been  duly  posted, 
and  would  permit  them  to  pass  unchallenged  ; 
but  these  accommodating  guards  would  very  soon 
be  relieved,  and  their  places  taken  by  those  who 


112  DON  GOBDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

would  report  them  the  first  thing  in  the  morn- 
ing. 

As  Fisher  spoke  he  pushed  aside  the  loosened 
fence- pickets,  squeezed  himself  through  the  open- 
ing, and,  with  his  body  half  bent,  made  his  way 
toward  Dick  Henderson's  post.  Presently  he 
threw  himself  upon  his  hands  and  knees,  and  in  a 
few  seconds  more  was  out  of  sight.  Another  and 
another  followed  him,  and  finally  Duncan  took  his 
turn,  and  Don  was  left  alone. 

"Don't  be  in  too  great  a  hurry,"  were  the 
latter's  parting  words.  "  Let  me  get  out  of 
your  sight  before  you  start." 

During  the  last  hour  and  a  half  Dick  Hender- 
son had  been  walking  his  beat  in  no  very  pleasant 
frame  of  mind.  Tom  had  told  him  that  he  and  his 
friends  would  return  some  time  between  the  hours 
of  two  and  four ;  but  at  three  o'clock  Dick  had 
seen  no  signs  of  them. 

"  I  wonder  if  they  went  in  at  some  other  part 
of  the  grounds,"  Dick  often  said  to  himself.  "  I 
can't  believe  they  did,  for  I  think  I  am  the  only 
fellow  in  our  crowd  who  holds  an  outside  post  to- 
night. Besides,  Duncan  said  they  would  come  in 
here,  so  that  I  could  halt  Don  Gordon.  They'll 


RUNNING   THE   GUARD.  113 

have  to  hurry  up  if  they  want  me  to  do  anything 
for  them." 

As  the  minutes  wore  away  Dick's  anxiety  in- 
creased, and  finally  he  became  really  alarmed. 
The  hell  had  struck  three  long  ago,  and  Dick  was 
beginning  to  look  for  his  relief,  when,  to  his  great 
joy,  he  saw  somebody  creeping  toward  him 
through  the  deep  snow.  As  soon  as  he  caught 
sight  of  him  he  moved  back  to  his  box  and  stood 
behind  it,  leaning  on  his  musket.  The  boy,  Tom 
Fisher,  crossed  Dick's  beat  in  plain  view  of  him, 
uttering  a  peculiar  cough  as  he  passed,  and  disap- 
peared behind  the  high  piles  of  snow  that  had 
been  thrown  out  of  the  path  leading  to  the 
academy. 

"  That's  one,"  thought  Dick,  "and  Duncan  said 
there  were  to  be  nine  in  the  party.  I  am  to  allow 
eight  of  them  to  go  in  peace,  and  the  ninth  man, 
who  will  be  Don  Gordon,  is  to  be  halted  and  turned 
over  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  officer  of  the  day. 
That  is  two,"  he  added,  as  another  boy  crept  by, 
giving  the  "signal"  as  he  went. 

When  the  eighth  man  was  safely  out  of  sight 
Dick  shouldered  his  musket  and  stepping  out  from 
behind  his  box,  prepared  for  action.  As  he  came 


114  DON  GOEDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

into  view,  a  boy  who  was  moving  rapidly  toward 
him,  in  a  crouching  attitude,  suddenly  stopped, 
and  then  as  suddenly  plunged  into  the  nearest 
snowdrift,  burying  himself  in  it  head  and 
ears. 

"  That  fellow  is  like  an  ostrich,"  soliloquized 
Dick,  as  he  walked  quickly  along  his  beat.  "  He 
thinks  that  because  his  head  is  out  of  sight,  his 
whole  body  is  concealed." 

Having  taken  up  a  position  between  the  recum- 
bent figure  and  the  path  that  led  from  his  beat  to 
the  academy,  Dick  brought  his  musket  to  "  arms 
port"  and  sung  out,  in  his  loudest  tones  :  "Who 
comes  there  ? "  immediately  following  up  his 
challenge  with  lusty  calls  for  the  corporal  of  the 
guard  No.  5.  The  last  words  had  hardly  left  his 
lips  when  the  prostrate  boy  sprang  to  his  feet, 
and  coughing  up  the  snow  which  had  filled  his 
mouth  and  got  into  his  throat  when  he  made  his 
sudden  plunge  into  the  drift,  ran  toward  the 
academy  with  surprising  swiftness.  Dick  hoard 
that  cough,  and  it  affected  him  very  strangely. 
He  stood  with  open  mouth  and  eyes,  gazing  in 
the  direction  in  which  the  boy  had  disappeared, 
while  his  musket  trembled  in  his  grasp,  and  his 


RUNNING   THE   GUARD.  115 

face  grew  almost  as  white  as  the  snow  around 
him. 

"  Now  I've  done  it,"  he  said  to  himself,  with  no 
little  alarm.  "  I've  gone  and  called  the  corporal 
for  one  of  our  own  boys.  What  in  the  world 
shall  I  do  ?  Tom  and  Clarence  will  read  me  out 
of  their  good  books,  and  I  shall  have  no  one  to 
be  friends  with,  for  those  high-toned  lads  in  the 
upper  classes  won't  look  at  me.  Well,  if  trouble 
comes  of  it,  they  can  just  blame  Duncan.  He 
told  me  to  stop  the  ninth  boy,  and  I  know  I  didn't 
make  any  mistake  in  counting  them.  But  what 
shall  I  say  to  the  corporal  ?  That's  what  bothers 
me." 

Dick  was  obliged  to  come  to  a  decision  on  this 
point  very  speedily,  for  just  then  the  door  of  the 
guard-room  was  thrown  open,  and  the  corporal 
came  out  and  hurried  toward  him. 

"  What's  the  matter,  sentry  ?  "  he  asked,  as  soon 
as  he  had  approached  within  speaking  distance. 

"  Some  fellow  has  just  run  by  me,"  was  Dick's 
reply. 

"Whew!"  whistled  the  corporal.  "Running 
the  guard  has  begun  rather  early  in  the  term, 
hasn't  it  ?  Who  was  he  ?  " 


116  DON  GOKDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Dick,  and  he  told 
the  truth. 

"  Whom  did  he  look  like  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that,  either.  You  can't  tell  one 
student  from  another  in  the  dark,  when  they  are 
all  dressed  alike." 

"  Then  why  didn't  you  catch  him  and  find  out 
who  he  was  ?  " 

"  Catch  him  ! "  repeated  Dick.  "  Cony  Ryan's 
grayhound  couldn't  have  caught  him.  He  ran 
like  a  deer." 

"  Well,  he'll  be  stopped  when  he  tries  to  get 
into  his  dormitory,"  said  the  corporal,  indif- 
ferently. "  I'll  go  and  see  what  the  officer  of  the 
day  thinks  about  it.  You're  sure  this  fellow,  who- 
ever he  was,  didn't  go  out  since  you  have  been  on 
post  ?  " 

"  Of  course  he  didn't,"  said  Dick,  indignantly. 

"  Then  Patchen "  (that  was  the  name  of  the 
sentry  who  held  post  No.  5  when  Fisher  and  his 
companions  left  the  grounds),  "  will  have  to  answer 
to  -the  superintendent  for  neglect  of  duty,"  said 
the  corporal,  as  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked 
back  toward  the  guard-room. 

"And  just  as  likely  as  not  he  will  punch  my 


RUNNING  THE   GUARD.  117 

head  for  getting  him  into  trouble,"  thought  Dick, 
trembling  again.  "  But  I  didn't  mean  to  do  it. 
It's  all  that  Clarence  Duncan's  i'ault,  for  he  ought 
to  have  told  me  that  he  was  going  to  add  more 
buys  to  his  party.  Don  Gordon  must  be  outside 
the  grounds  yet,  and  perhaps  some  of  our  boys  are 
with  him." 

Meanwhile  Tom  Fisher,  having  gained  the 
academy  building  in  safety,  opened  the  back 
door,  climbed  two  pairs  of  stairs,  and  felt  his  way 
along  the  hall  to  the  door  that  gave  entrance  to 
the  floor  on  which  Don  Gordon's  dormitory  was 
situated.  This  door  he  unlocked  and  opened,  and 
stepping  into  the  next  hall  saw  the  sentry  who 
had  relieved  Charley  Porter  at  midnight  sitting 
under  the  light  reading  a  book. 

"  Ahem  !  "  said  Tom  ;  whereupon  the  sentry 
laid  down  his  book  and  walked  toward  him. 

"Well,  you  fellows  have  made  a  night  of  it, 
haven't  you  ?  "  said  he,  in  a  cautious  whisper. 

"  I  should  think  so,"  answered  Tom.  "  Had  a 
splendid  time,  too.  The  pancakes  were  just  as 
good  as  they  used  to  be,  and  Gordon  settled  the 
bill  like  a  prince." 

"You  had  better    go    to    bed,  and  be  in  a 


118  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

hurry  about  it,  too,"  said  the  sentry.  "It  is 
almost  time  for  me  to  be  relieved." 

"  I  know  it ;  but  I  promised  to  wait  at  this 
door  and  let  Gordon  in.  He  has  no  key  of  his 
own." 

'"  If  he  doesn't  come  along  pretty  soon  he'll 
not  get  in  this  morning  without  being  reported, 
for  Gulick  conies  after  me." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  Then  he'd  better  hurry,  that's 
a  fact.  I  can't  wait  much  longer  for  him  with- 
out bringing  myself  into  trouble." 

The  sentry,  who  did  not  dare  remain  longer  in 
conversation  with  Tom  for  fear  that  the  officer 
of  the  day  or  the  corporal  of  the  guard  might 
come  quietly  up  the  stairs  and  catch  him  at  it, 
walked  away  toward  the  other  end  of  the 
hall,  while  Tom  closed  the  door  and  stood  there 
in  the  dark,  impatiently  awaiting  the  arrival  of 
Don  Gordon.  He  heard  his  friends  as  they 
crossed  the  landing  one  after  another,  and  went 
on  up  to  their  dormitories,  but  the  boy  he  wanted 
to  see  did  not  make  his  appearance.  Pres- 
ently some  one  jerked  open  the  back  door, 
slammed  it  behind  him,  and  came  up  the  stairs 
in  great  haste. 


RUNNING   THE    GUARD.  119 

"Who  is  that  idiot,  I  wonder?  He  makes 
noise  enough  to  arouse  the  whole  school. 
B-1-e-r-s,"  whispered  Tom,  as  the  boy  sprang 
upon  the  landing. 

"R-a-m,"  came  the  prompt  response. 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  continued  Tom. 

"Brown." 

"Well  you  are  making  a  fearful  racket,  the 
first  thing  you  know,"  said  Tom,  angrily. 

"  I  am  in  a  hurry,"  panted  the  boy.  "  Here's 
the  very  mischief  to  pay.  That  fool  Henderson 
has  gone  and  challenged  one  of  our  fellows." 

"  No,"  gasped  Tom,  who  was  greatly  alarmed. 

"  But  I  say  he  has,  for  I  heard  him.  Come  on. 
We  musn't  stay  here  another  moment." 

"  But  I  promised  to  let  Gordon  in,"  said  Tom. 

"  What  do  you  care  for  Gordon  ?  Let  him 
go  and  take  care  of  yourself.  That's  what  I 
am  going  to  do." 

So  saying  the  boy  went  on  up  the  stairs,  leav- 
ing Tom  to  himself.  The  latter  could  not  make 
up  his  mind  what  to  do.  He  knew  that  he  was 
in  danger,  but  still  he  did  not  like  to  desert 
Don  in  his  extremity.  Don,  speaking  in  school- 
boy parlance,  had  shown  himself  to  be  a  thorough- 


120      DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

bred.  He  could  sing  a  good  song,  tell  an  inter- 
esting story,  and,  better  than  all,  he  was  provided 
with  a  liberal  supply  of  pocket-money,  which  he 
spent  with  a  lavish  hand.  This  was  enough  to 
raise  him  to  a  high  place  in  the  estimation  of 
Tom  Fisher,  whose  own  supply  of  dimes  was 
limited. 

"  I  have  it  ? "  soliloquized  Tom,  at  length. 
"  I'll  leave  the  key  in  the  lock,  and  if  he  suc- 
ceeds in  getting  by  the  guard  he  can  let  him- 
self in.  Of  course  he  will  have  sense  enough 
to  fasten  the  door  after  him,  and  put  the  key 
in  his  pocket.  Henderson  will  have  to  explain 
his  conduct  in  the  morning.  He  had  no  busi- 
ness to  halt  any  of  our  fellows  unless  he  did 
it  to  protect  himself." 

Tom  hurriedly  ascended  the  next  flight  of 
stairs,  but  scarcely  had  he  reached  the  top  when 
the  back  door  was  thrown  open  again  and  an- 
other boy  came  bounding  up  the  steps.  It  was 
Clarence  Duncan,  who  was  congratulating  himself 
on  the  complete  success  of  his  plans.  He  lingered 
a  moment  or  two  in  the  hall  where  Fisher  had 
stood  waiting  for  Don  Gordon,  and  then  went  on 
to  his  own  dormitory.  The  floor-guard  was  so 


RUNNING   THE   GUARD.  121 

very  deeply  interested  in  a  dime  novel  that  he  did 
not  appear  to  see  or  hear  him  as  he  passed,  and  in 
a  few  seconds  more  Clarence  was  safe  in  bed.  He 
was  just  in  time,  He  had  not  been  between  the 
sheets  two  minutes  before  he  heard  the  gruff  tones 
of  the  officer  of  the  day,  who  was  questioning  the 
floor-guard.  Clarence  could  not  hear  what  they 
said,  but  he  knew  what  they  were  talking  about. 
Presently  he  heard  doors  softly  opened  and  closed. 
The  sounds  came  nearer,  and  at  last  the  door  of 
his  own  room  was  opened,  and  the  officer  of  the 
day,  attended  by  the  corporal  of  the  guard,  who 
carried  a  lantern  in  his  hand,  stepped  across  the 
threshold.  The  officer  saw  Duncan  and  Fisher 
lying  with  their  faces  to  the  wall,  apparently  fast 
asleep,  took  note  of  the  fact  that  their  clothes 
were  deposited  in  orderly  array  upon  the  chairs  at 
the  side  of  their  beds,  and  departed  satisfied 
with  his  investigations.  In  a  few  minutes  the 
relief  came  up,  and  Clarence  began  to  breathe 
easier. 

"  Say,  Fisher,"  he  whispered,  "  are  you  asleep  ?  " 

"No,"  was  the  reply.     "And  what's  more,  I 

don't  want  to  go  to  sleep.     If  I  do,  I  am  afraid 

I  shall  miss  roll-call,  and  then  the  superinten- 

6 


122  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

dent  would  know  where  to  look  to  find  at  least 
one  fellow  who  ran  the  guards." 

"  I  think  myself  that  it  would  be  a  good 
plan  for  us  to  keep  awake.  Say,  Fisher/' 
whispered  Clarence,  again,  "  Gordon's  goose  is 
cooked." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"I  mean  just  what  I  say.  I  shall  be  amply 
revenged  on  him  for  the  insults  he  has  heaped 
upon  us.  When  we  came  through  the  fence  I 
managed  to  keep  him  until  the  last,  and  Hen- 
derson halted  him.  I  didn't  know  but  he  might 
succeed  in  getting  by  in  spite  of  Dick's  efforts 
to  stop  him,  so,  in  order  to  make  assurance 
doubly  sure,  I  took  the  pains  to  examine  the 
door  in  the  second  hall,  and  in  it  I  found  a 
key  that  some  kind  friend  had  left  there  for 
his  benefit.  But  I  just  took  the  key  out  of 
that  lock,  and  put  it  into  my  pocket.  Don 
can't  possibly  get  in  without  being  reported  by 
the  floor-guard,  and  he  can  take  his  choice  be- 
tween freezing  outside  and  giving  himself  up  to 
the  corporal." 

"Did  you  tell  Henderson  to  halt  him?" 
demanded  Fisher,  who  had  listened  with  the 


RUNNING   THE   GUARD.  123 

greatest  amazement  to  this  astounding  revela- 
tion. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  did,"  chuckled  Duncan,  who 
seemed  to  be  highly  elated.  "  I  posted  Dick 
yesterday  afternoon,  and  he  carried  out  my  idea 
to  a  dot.  I  didn't  expect  to  get  even  with 
Gordon  so  soon,  did  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  of  all  the  blunder-heads  I  ever  saw  you 
are  the  greatest,"  said  Tom,  in  deep  disgust. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter  ? "  demanded 
Duncan,  who  was  now  surprised  in  his  turn. 
"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ? "  he  added, 
as  Tom  got  out  of  his  bed  and  moved  toward 
the  door. 

"  I  am  going  to  see  if  there  is  any  chance  for  me 
to  undo  your  miserable  work,"  replied  Tom,  who 
was  so  enraged  that  he  could  scarcely  speak. 
"  You  have  made  a  nice  mess  by  your  meddling. 
Why  didn't  you  ask  the  advice  of  the  rest  of  us 
before  issuing  any  orders  on  your  own  responsi- 
bility ?  You're  just  a  trifle  too  smart  to  be  of 
any  use  to  me  hereafter." 

Opening  the  door  Tom  looked  out  into  the  hall, 
and  saw  at  a  glance  that  he  could  do  nothing  to 
help  the  unlucky  Don.  He  had  intended,  if  it 


124  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

were  possible,  to  go  down  to  the  lower  floor  and 
put  the  key  back  in  the  lock  so  that  Don  could 
use  it  in  case  he  succeeded  by  any  chance  in 
getting  past  the  sentry ;  but  he  could  not  carry 
this  plan  into  execution  now,  because  the  floor- 
guard  who  had  permitted  himself  and  Duncan 
and  all  the  other  boys  who  belonged  on  that  floor 
to  pass  unnoticed,  had  been  relieved,  and  his 
chair  was  occupied  by  a  boy  who  could  not  be 
fooled  with. 

"  Anything  wanting,  Fisher  ? "  asked  the 
sentry,  looking  up  from  his  book. 

"I  thought  somebody  came  into  my  room  a 
few  minutes  ago/'  said  Tom,  in  reply. 

"  So  there  did.     It  was  the  officer  of  the  day." 

"What  did  he  want?" 

"Not  much  of  anything,  only  to  make  sure 
that  you  were  in  bed  where  you  belong." 

"  What's  up  ?  " 

"  Somebody  has  been  running  the  guard  ; 
that's  all." 

"  Did  they  catch  him  ?  " 

"  No  ;  and  neither  did  Henderson  recognize 
him.  There's  something  mysterious  about  it. 
As  far  as  I  can  learn  there  is  no  one  missing,  and 


RUNNING    THE   GUARD.  125 

the  floor-guards  are  all  willing  to  swear  tliat 
nobody  has  passed  in  or  out  of  the  academy  since 
taps.  Good-morning." 

As  this  was  a  hint  that  the  sentry  did  not  want 
to  talk  any  longer,  Tom  drew  in  his  head  and 
closed  the  door. 

"  Now  I  am  beat,"  said  he,  aloud  ;  and  so  was 
Duncan  who  had  sat  up  in  bed  and  heard  every 
word  that  passed  between  his  room-mate  and  the 
sentry.  "  Gordon  was  stopped  by  Dick  Hender- 
son, locked  out  in  the  cold  through  your  lack  of 
sense,  and  yet  the  officer  of  the  day  finds  him  in 
his  room  !  How  does  that  come  ?  I  can't  under- 
stand it." 

"Neither  can  I,"  said  Duncan.  "But,  Tom, 
what  made  you  get  so  angry  at  me  ?  " 

"  I  had  two  reasons  for  it.  In  the  first  place 
you  had  no  right  to  tell  Henderson  to  stop  Don 
until  you  found  out  what  the  rest  of  us  thought 
about  it.  You  took  altogether  too  much  upon 
yourself  when  you  presumed  to  act  for  a  dozen  or 
more  fellows  in  the  way  you  did." 

"  Have  you  forgotten  that  Gordon  has  repeated- 
ly neglected  to  salute  us,  and  that  he  threatened 
to  make  spread-eagles  of  the  pair  of  us  ? " 


126       DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

demanded  Clarence.  "  I  wanted  to  get  even  with 
him  for  that." 

"  That's  no  excuse.  I  want  to  get  even  with 
him  too,  and,  what  is  more,  I  intend  to  do  it ; 
but  I  never  would  have  given  my  consent  to  your 
idea,  as  you  call  it.  While  we  were  coming  from 
Cony's  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  propose 
to  the  boys  to  take  Gordon  into  full  fellowship 
with  us  and  stand  by  him  through  thick  and  thin 
until  near  the  close  of  the  term  ;  and  when  we 
had  enjoyed  all  the  treats  we  could  squeeze  out  of 
him,  then  we'd  go  for  him.  He's  got  a  lot  of 
money,  and,  what's  more  to  the  point,  he  is  per- 
fectly willing  to  spend  it." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Duncan,  thoughtfully. 
"  Your  idea  is  better  than  mine.  Why  didn't 
you  speak  of  it  before  ?  " 

"  I  should  have  thought  your  own  good  sense, 
if  you  had  any,  would  have  suggested  it  to  you," 
answered  Tom.  "  I  have  been  thinking  about  it 
ever  since  we  left  Cony's.  Your  governor  and 
mine  have  curtailed  our  allowance,  and  unless 
somebody  foots  the  bills  for  us,  how  are  we  going 
to  get  any  pancakes  this  term  ?  Besides,  we  may 
want  to  borrow  a  dollar  occasionally,  and  I  know 


RUNNING   THE   GUARD.  127 

Gordon  will  give  it  to  us  if  we  only  handle  him 
right." 

"  That's  so,"  saidt  Duncan,  again.  "  I  wish  I 
had  kept  away  from  Henderson." 

"  So  do  I.  We  may  see  trouhle  over  that 
thing  yet.  I  wish  it  was  morning.  1  shall  be  on 
nettles  until  I  see  Don  in  the  ranks.  I  hope  he 
will  get  in  all  right,  hut  somehow  I  can't  bring 
myself  to  believe  that  he  will." 

The  two  boys  did  not  sleep  a  wink  that  night — 
or  morning,  rather.  They  rolled  and  tossed 
about  on  their  beds,  waiting  impatiently  for  the 
report  of  the  morning  gun  which  finally  rang  out 
on  the  frosty  air,  being  followed  almost  immedi- 
ately by  the  rattle  of  drums  and  the  shrieking 
of  fifes  in  the  drill-room.  They  marched  down 
with  their  company,  and  while  the  roll  was  being 
called  they  ran  their  eyes  over  the  Plebes  who 
were  drawn  up  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room. 
There  was  Don  Gordon  in  the  front  rank,  looking 
as  fresh  as  a  daisy  and  as  innocent  as  though  he 
had  never  violated  a  rule  in  his  life. 

"He  did  get  in,  didn't  he  ? "  said  Duncan, 
while  he  and  Fisher  were  clearing  up  their  room 
in  readiness  for  inspection.  "  He  didn't  seem  any 


128       DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

the  worse  for  his  night's  experience,  either ;  but 
did  you  notice  Dick  Henderson  ?  His  face  was 
as  long  as  your  arm." 

Having  received  positive  proof  that  Don  had 
succeeded  in  reaching  his  room  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  the  hall-door  had  been  locked  against 
him,  Tom  and  his  companion,  their  friendly  rela- 
tions having  been  fully  restored  by  the  unex- 
pected and  mysterious  failure  of  Duncan's  "  idea/' 
became  anxious  to  know  how  he  had  done  it. 
During  the  two  hours  of  study  that  came  after  the 
inspection  of  their  rooms,  they  did  not  look  at 
their  books. 

As  soon  as  breakfast  was  over  and  the  ranks 
were  broken,  they  put  on  their  overcoats  and  went 
out  in  search  of  Don.  They  found  him  in  a  very 
few  minutes,  for  he  was  also  looking  for  them.  He 
was  just  as  anxious  to  know  why  he  had  been  chal- 
lenged while  the  other  members  of  the  party  were 
allowed  to  pass,  as  they  were  to  ascertain  how  he 
had  got  back  to  his  room.  Before  any  of  the  three 
could  speak,  Dick  Henderson  came  rushing  up. 

"0,  boys  ! "  he  began. 

"That  will  do  for  the  present,  Bub,"  inter- 
rupted Duncan. 


RUNNING    THE   GUAKD.  129 

"  Kun  away  now,  like  a  good  little  boy." 

"  But  I  say,  fellows,"  exclaimed  Dick. 

"  Well,  say  it  some  other  time.  We  are  busy 
just  now." 

"  Let  him  speak,"  said  Don.  "  I  want  him  to 
tell  why  he  stopped  me  this  morning." 

"  I  didn't  stop  you,"  replied  Dick. 

"  That's  a  fact,  you  didn't.  But  you  tried  to 
all  the  same,  and  I  want  to  know  what  you  meant 
by  it." 

"Why,  Gordon,  it  can't  be  possible  that  you 
were — eh  ?  " 

Dick  was  about  to  ask  Don  if  he  was  the  boy 
who  tried  to  bury  himself  out  of  sight  in  a  snow- 
drift, and  who  jumped  up  and  ran  toward  the 
academy  when  the  corporal  of  the  guard  was 
summoned  ;  but  he  was  interrupted  by  a  look 
from  Duncan.  Then  the  latter  pointed  with  his, 
thumb  over  his  shoulder,  and  Dick,  who  underr 
stood  the  motion,  beat  a  hasty  retreat,  looking 
crestfallen  as  well  as  bewildered. 

"  He  committed  a  most  inexcusable  blunder, 
and  came  very  near  getting  the  whole  of  us  into 
hot  water,"  said  Fisher,  who  knew  that  he  must 
offer  something  in  the  way  of  explanation.  "  We 


130      DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

will  give  him  a  good  talking  to,  and  make  him 
promise  to  be  more  careful  in  future.  Now,  Gor- 
don, how  in  the  world  did  you  get  in  ?  " 

"  Easy  enough,"  answered  Don.  "  I  say,  hoys, 
there's  lots  of  fun  in  running  the  guard,  and  some 
little  excitement  too.  I  am  ready  to  try  it  again 
any  night.  Come  on,  and  I  will  tell  you  all  about 
it." 

The  three  boys  linked  their  arms  together  and 
walked  toward  an  unfrequented  part  of  the 
grounds,  so  that  Don  could  give  the  details  of  his 
exploit  without  danger  of  being  overheard.  We 
will  tell  the  story  in  our  own  way. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

HOW     DON     GOT     IN. 

"  T|ON'T  be  in  too  great  a  hurry.  Let  me  get 
out  of  your  sight,"  said  Clarence  Duncan, 
as  he  crept  through  the  fence ;  and  Don,  whose 
suspicions  had  not  been  aroused,  was  careful  to 
obey.  When  he  thought  that  Clarence  had  been 
allowed  time  to  reach  the  academy,  he  passed 
through  the  opening  and  moved  toward  Dick 
Henderson's  post.  He  saw  the  latter  when  he 
came  out  from  behind  his  box  and  walked  along 
his  beat,  and  remembering  Tom  Fisher's  words 
of  caution — that  it  would  not  be  safe  to  approach 
Dick's  post  openly  for  fear  that  the  officer  of  the 
day  or  the  corporal  might  be  somewhere  within 
sight — Don  sought  concealment  by  throwing  him- 
self at  full  length  in  the  snow.  He  expected  to 
see  Dick  turn  about  and  go  behind  his  box  again  ; 
and  consequently  he  was  not  a  little  amazed  when 
the  sentry  took  up  a  position  directly  in  front  of 
him,  and  called  for  the  corporal  of  the  guard. 


132  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

Don  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  it ;  but  he 
did  know  that  if  he  stayed  where  he  was,  detection 
and  punishment  were  inevitable.  He  still  had  one 
chance  for  escape,  and  he  lost  no  time  in  improv- 
ing it.  He  jumped  up  and  took  to  his  heels, 
trusting  to  the  darkness  and  to  his  uniform  to 
conceal  his  identity.  He  was  very  light  of  foot, 
and  by  doing  some  of  his  best  running, "he  suc- 
ceeded in  dodging  around  the  corner  of  the  acad- 
emy building  just  as  the  corporal  threw  open  the 
door  of  the  guard-room.  The  signal,  which  had 
produced  such  an  effect  upon  Dick  Henderson,  he 
had  given  by  the  merest  accident.  It  was  one 
that  Fisher,  by  some  oversight,  had  neglected  to 
teach  him,  although  he  had  let  him  into  the  secret 
of  all  the  other  signs  and  pass-words. 

"  A  miss  is  as  good  as  a  mile,  but  still  that 
was  a  pretty  close  shave,"  said  Don  to  himself,'  as 
he  opened  the  back  door  and  felt  his  way  up  the 
stairs.  "  I  can't  understand  why  Dick  challenged 
me,  unless  it  was  because  my  approach  was  dis- 
covered by  somebody  else  who  would  have  reported 
him  if  he  hadn't  tried  to  stop  ine." 

On  reaching  the  second  landing  Don  moved 
cautiously  along  the  hall,  spelling  the  last  syllable 


HOW  DON   GOT   IN.  133 

of  the  pass-word  as  he  went.  Greatly  to  his 
surprise,  he  met  with  no  response.  When  his 
hands  came  in  contact  with  the  door,  he  began 
searching  for  the  knob  ;  but  when  he  turned  it, 
the  door  did  not  open  for  him.  It  was  locked. 

"  Now  here's  a  go,"  thought  Don,  who  did  not 
know  whether  to  laugh  or  get  angry  over  the  pre- 
dicament in  which  he  so  unexpectedly  found 
himself.  "  Where's  Fisher  ?  He  knew  very 
well  that  I  couldn't  get  to  my  room  without 
assistance,  and  yet  he  has  deserted  me.  If  that 
is  the  sort  of  fellow  he  is,  he'll  not  eat  any  more 
pancakes  this  winter  at  my  expense." 

Having  satisfied  himself  that  Tom  was  not  on 
hand,  as  he  had  promised  to  be,  Don  placed  his 
ear  close  to  the  key-hole,  and  found  that  he  could 
distinctly  hear  the  footsteps  of  the  floor-guard,  as 
he  paced  up  and  down  the  hall  on  the  other  side 
of  the  door.  There  was  a  fellow  who  could  and 
would  help  him  if  he  could  only  attract  his  atten- 
tion. Waiting,  with  all  the  patience  he  could 
command,  until  the  sentry  came  down  to  that  end 
of  the  hall  again,  Don  rapped  softly  upon  the 
door,  and  in  a  peculiar  manner.  The  footsteps 
ceased  on  the  instant ;  the  sentry  was  listening. 


134          DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

Again  Don  gave  the  mystic  signal — one  quick 
rap ;  then,  after  a  little  pause,  three  more  raps, 
delivered  in  rapid  succession,  and  presently  a  voice 
came  through  the  key-hole. 

"  B-1-e-r-s  ! "  it  whispered. 

"  R-a-m  !  "  whispered  Don,  in  reply. 

"Who  is  it?" 

"  Gordon." 

A  moment  later  a  key  rattled  in  the  lock,  the 
door  swung  open,  and  Don  stood  face  to  face  with 
the  sentry. 

"  Where's  Fisher  ?  "  demanded  the  latter. 

"  That's  just  what  I  should  like  to  know," 
answered  Don.  "He  said  he  would  be  here  to 
let  me  in,  hut  I  haven't  seen  anything  of  him." 

"He's  a  pretty  fellow,"  exclaimed  the  sentry. 
"  I  don't  know  whether  you  can  reach  your  room 
or  not.  The  guards  have  been  aroused,  and  I 
am  expecting  the  officer  of  the  day  every 
minute.  But  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  for  you. 
Stay  here  till  I  come  back." 

The  sentry  was  not  gone  more  than  a  quarter 
of  a  minute.  He  went  as  far  as  the  head  of  the 
stairs  that  led  to  the  floor  below,  and  then  he 
turned  and  ran  back  on  tip-toe.  "  You're  too 


HOW  DON   GOT   IN.  135 

late,"  said  he.  "  The  officer  of  the  day  is  down 
stairs,  and  he'll  be  up  here  in  a  second.  You 
might  as  well  come  out  and  give  yourself  up, 
for  the  hoy  who  comes  after  me  will  not  pass 
you." 

"I  can't  help  that,"  replied  Don,  "I'll  not 
give  myself  up.  That  isn't  my  style." 

The  sentry  had  seen  many  a  boy  in  a  tight 
corner,  but  he  had  never  before  seen  one  who 
took  matters  as  coolly  as  Don  did.  All  the 
other  students  of  his  acquaintance  would  have 
been  frightened  when  they  found  that  every 
avenue  of  escape  was  closed  against  them  ;  but 
Don  was  as  serene  as  a  summer's  morning. 

"  You're  a  plucky  one,"  said  the  sentry.  "  and 
I  am  sorry  that  I  can  not  help  you.  If  my  re- 
lief—Get out  of  sight,  quick  !  quick!"  he  added, 
as  a  heavy  step  sounded  on  the  stairs.  "  That's 
the  officer  of  the  day ;  and  if  he  finds  this  door 
unlocked,  I  shall  be  in  as  bad  a  box  as  you 
are." 

Don  went  back  into  the  hall,  his  movements 
being  quickened  by  a  gentle  push  from  the 
sentry,  who,  having  closed  and  locked  the  door, 
succeeded  in  reaching  his  own  hall  just  a  second 


136  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

before  the  officer  of  the  day  appeared  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs.  Close  at  his  heels  came  the 
corporal  of  the  guard,  who  carried  a  lighted 
lantern  in  his  hand. 

"Sentry/'  said  the  officer,  " have  any  of  your 
men  left  their  rooms  to-night?" 

"  Not  since  I  have  been  on  post,  sir,"  replied 
the  sentry.  "  The  beds  were  all  occupied  half 
an  hour  ago." 

"We  will  look  into  this  matter,  corporal," 
said  the  officer ;  and  as  he  spoke  he  led  the  way 
to  the  farther  end  of  the  hall  to  begin  an  ex- 
amination of  the  rooms.  The  sentry  knew  that 
he  would  do  this,  and  he  awaited  the  issue  of 
events  with  no  little  uneasiness. 

"Somebody  is  in  for  a  regular  overhauling," 
said  he  to  himself.  "  Of  course  they  will  see 
that  Gordon's  bed  is  empty,  and  the  next  ques- 
tion to  be  decided  will  be  :  Who  let  him  out, 
Porter  or  1  ?  I  know  I  didn't  do  it  ;  Porter 
will  be  sure  to  deny  it — he  can  keep  a  smooth 
face  and  tell  a  lie  easier  than  any  boy  /  ever 
saw— and  unless  I  can  prevail  upon  Gordon  to 
back  up  my  statement,  I  shall  be  in  a  bad  fix." 

This  was  the  sentry's  only  chance  for  escape, 


HOW   DON   GOT   IN.  137 

and  it  looked  like  a  very  slim  one.  He  was 
not  at  all  acquainted  with  Don  Gordon  ;  in 
fact  he  had  never  exchanged  a  word  with  him 
until  that  night,  and  consequently  he  had  no  idea 
what  Don  would  do  when  he  was  taken  before 
the  superintendent  and  ordered  to  give  the 
names  of  the  floor-guard  and  of  the  outside 
sentry  who  had  permitted  him  to  pass  un- 
challenged. Would  he  refuse  to  obey  the  order, 
as  an  honorable  boy  cught  to  do,  or  would  he 
seek  to  screen  himself  by  making  a  clean  breast 
of  everything  ?  While  the  sentry  was  turning 
these  matters  over  in  his  mind,  the  officer  of 
the  day  opened  the  door  of  Don's  dormitory. 

"It's  all  over  now,"  thought  he,  "and  the 
next  thing  is  the  investigation.  I  don't  believe 
I  shall  have  another  opportunity  to  speak  to 
Gordon  to-night,  for  my  relief  ought  to  be  along 
now ;  but  I  must  see  him  the  first  thing  in  the 
morning  and  find  out  what  sort  of  a  story  he 
intends  to  tell  when  he  is  hauled  up.  If  he 
has  nerve  enough  to  keep  a  still  tongue  in  his 
head " 

The  sentry  brought  his  soliloquy  to  a  close, 
and  stood  looking  the  very  picture  of  astonish- 


138  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

merit.  Just  then  the  officer  of  the  day  and 
his  attendant  came  out  of  Don's  room,  and 
there  was  nothing  in  their  faces  to  indicate 
that  they  had  made  any  discovery  there.  They 
looked  into  all  the  other  dormitories,  and  then 
came  back  to  the  lower  end  of  the  hall  and 
tried  the  door  that  led  to  the  fire-escape.  It 
was  locked,  and  everything  seemed  to  be  all 
right. 

"  Sentry,"  said  the  officer  of  the  day,  in  stern 
tones.  "  Are  you  sure  you  are  telling  me  the 
truth  when  you  say  that  no  one  has  passed  you 
to-night  ?  "  ' 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  am,"  answered  the  boy,  looking 
his  questioner  squarely  in  the  eye.  "  No  one 
has  passed  across  this  floor  since  I  came  on 
post." 

"  When  this  matter  has  been  sifted  to  the 
bottom,  as  it  certainly  will  be,  a  fine  reckon- 
ing awaits  somebody,"  said  the  officer.  "  Cor- 
poral, we  will  go  to  the  next  floor." 

When  the  two  had  disappeared,  and  the  sentry's 
ears  told  him  that  they  were  making  the  round  of 
the  dormitories  above,  he  pulled  his  key  from  his 
pocket  and  quickly  opened  the  door  behind  which 


HOW   DON   GOT    IN.  139 

Don  Gordon  stood  trying  to  make  up  his  mind 
to  something.  He  did  not  expect  to  get  into  his 
room  that  morning,  and  the  question  he  was  try- 
ing to  decide,  was  :  Should  he  stay  there  in  the 
cold  and  take  his  chances  of  falling-in  with  the 
rest  of  the  Plebes  when  they  were  marched  down 
to  the  drill-room-  to  answer  to  roll-call,  or  should 
he  give  himself  up  and  ask  permission  to  sit 
by  the  guard -room  stove  until  he  was  thawed 
out  ?  He  was  very  much  surprised  when  the  door 
opened,  and  he  saw  the  sentry  beckoning  to  him. 

"  Gordon,"  said  the  latter,  in  a  hurried 
whisper.  "  You're  safe.  Did  you  put  a  dummy 
in  your  bed  before  you  came  out  ?  " 

Don  replied  that  he  did. 

"Well,  it  must  be  a  perfect  one,  for  the  officer 
of  the  day  went  in  there  with  a  light  and  never 
saw  anything  to  excite  his  suspicions.  It's  the 
greatest  wonder  in  the  world  to  me  that  he  didn't 
miss  your  clothes." 

"  My  clothes  were  there,"  answered  Don, 
calmly.  "  I  took  my  dress  suit  out  of  the  closet 
and  put  it  on  a  chair  by  the  side  of  my  bed, 
turning  the  coat  inside  out  and  doubling  up  the 
skirts  of  it  so  that  it  would  look  like  a  fatigue 


140  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTIXG-BOX. 

coat.  What  did  the  old  fellow  have  to  say  about 
it,  anyhow  ?  " 

The  sentry  could  not  waste  much  time  in  con- 
versation, for  every  moment  was  precious  ;  but 
he  said  enough  to  give  Don  an  idea  of  what  had 
passed  between  himself  and  the  officer  of  the  day, 
and  to  enable  him  to  give  Fisher  and  Duncan  a 
very  accurate  account  of  it. 

"  You  have  got  Porter  and  me  and  all  the  rest 
of  us  out  of  a  bad  scrape,"  said  the  sentry,  in 
conclusion.  "  Now  keep  mum,  or  if  you  speak  at 
all  deny  everything,  and  this  night's  work  will 
prove  to  be  the  most  bewildering  piece  of  business 
in  the  way  of  guard-running  that  has  ever  been 
done  at  this  academy.  Go  to  your  room  while  the 
way  is  open  to  you,  and  be  quick  about  it." 

Don,  whose  teeth  were  chattering  with  the 
cold,  lost  no  time  in  acting  upon  this  suggestion. 
His  first  act  was  to  hang  his  dress-suit  in  the 
closet,  and  his  next  to  deposit  in  its  place  on  the 
chair  the  suit  he  had  on  and  which  he  proceeded 
to  pull  off  with  all  possible  haste.  Then  he 
tumbled  into  bed  and  turned  his  face  to  the  wall 
just  as  the  floor-guard's  relief  came  up  the  stairs. 

"  That  was  another  close  shave,"  thought  Don, 


HOW   DON    GOT   IN.  141 

"  and  now  comes  something  else.  I  hope  the 
investigation  will  not  be  a  very  searching  one,  for 
if  it  is,  the  whole  thing  is  bound  to  come  out.  I 
am  always  in  for  a  good  time  when  I  can  have  it 
without  getting  anybody  into  difficulty ;  but 
when  it  comes  to  telling  a  deliberate  lie  about  it — • 
that's  a  huckleberry  beyond  my  persimmon." 

"  I  say  Don  !  "  whispered  Bert,  from  his  bed. 

"  Great  Moses  ! "  was  the  culprit's  mental 
ejaculation.  "Was  he  awake  when  I  came  in? 
If  he  was,  I  am  in  for  lectures  by  the  mile." 

"  I  say,  Don  !  "  whispered  Bert,  in  a  louder 
tone. 

"  M  !  "  said  Don,  drowsily. 

"I  thought  I  heard  some  one  come  in  just 
now." 

"  Very  likely  you  did.  The  officer  of  the  day 
has  been  in  here." 

"The  officer  of  the  day  ! "  repeated  Bert,  who 
had  learned  to  dread  that  official  as  much  as  some 
of  the  other  boys  disliked  him.  "  What  did  he 
want  ?  Is  there  anything  wrong  ?  " 

"  He  wanted  to  make  sure  that  we  were  both 
safely  stowed  away  in  our  little  beds.  Wake  me 
when  you  hear  the  morning  gun." 


142  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

This  was  the  substance  of  the  story  that  Don 
told  his  two  companions  as  they  strolled  about  the 
grounds  arm  in  arm.  They  listened  in  amaze- 
ment, and  complimented  Don's  presence  of  mind 
in  no  measured  terms.  Don  said  he  didn't  look 
upon  it  as  much  of  an  exploit — that  almost  any 
boy  could  have  done  the  same  thing  under  the 
same  circumstances,  adding — 

"  But  there  are  two  or  three  matters  that  I 
want  cleared  up,  and  at  least  one  on  which  I  wish 
to  come  to  the  plainest  kind  of  an  understanding 
with  you.  What  made  Henderson  halt  me?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I  am  sure,"  replied  Duncan. 
"  He  made  the  biggest  kind  of  a  blunder,  didn't 
he?" 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I  think  about  it,"  said 
Tom.  '•'  Dick  probably  knew  that  there  was 
somebody  else  watching  you,  and  that  if  he  didn't 
challenge  you,  he  would  be  reported  for  neglect  of 
duty." 

"That  was  the  construction  I  put  upon  his 
conduct,"  said  Don. 

"  We  can't  expect  a  fellow  to  get  himself  into 
trouble  for  the  sake  of  keeping  another  out  of  it, 
you  know,"  chimed  in  Clarence  Duncan. 


HOW   DON    GOT   IN.  143 

"Of  course  not.    Now,  Fisher,  what  was  the 
reason  you  were  not  there  at  that  door  to  let  me 


in 


"  I  was  to  blame  for  that,"  said  Clarence.  He 
knew  Don  would  be  sure  to  ask  that  question, 
and  while  the  latter  was  telling  his  story  he  had 
leisure  to  make  up  his  mind  how  he  would 
answer  it.  "  When  I  was  running  toward  the 
academy  I  heard  footsteps  in  the  guard-room,  and 
believing  that  the  relief  was  being  called,  I 
dodged  behind  the  building  to  wait  until  they 
began  the  round  of  the  posts.  Just  then 
Henderson  challenged,  and  shortly  afterward 
some  one  ran  by  me  and  went  into  the  academy 
through  the  back  door.  I  supposed  it  was  you  ; 
and  believing  that  I  was  the  last  one  to  go  in,  I 
took  pains  to  examine  the  doors  leading  out  of 
the  fire-escape,  knowing  that  they  would  all  be 
tried  by  the  officer  of  the  day  when  he  came  up 
to  look  into  the  rooms.  In  the  door  opening 
on  to  yom  floor  I  found  a  key  of  which  I  took 
possession,  supposing,  of  course,  that  you  had 
used  it  to  let  yourself  in  and  forgotten  to  take  it 
away  with  you." 

"  That  was  perfectly  right,  Gordon,"  said  Tom 


144  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

Fisher.  "  If  the  officer  of  the  day  had  found  that 
key  in  the  door,  it  would  have  knocked  our  night 
excursions  into  a  cocked  hat.  The  teachers  don't 
even  suspect  that  we  make  use  of  the  doors 
leading  to  the  back  stairs,  and  if  they  ever  find  it 
out " 

"  Then  good-by  to  Cony  Ryan's  pancakes," 
said  Duncan,  finishing  the  sentence  for  his  com- 
panion. "  What  is  that  point  on  which  you  wish 
to  come  to  the  plainest  kind  of  an  understanding 
with  us  ?  "  he  added,  in  the  hope  of  turning  the 
conversation  into  another  channel.  He  was  afraid 
that  Don  might  begin  a  vigorous  cross-question- 
ing, and  find  a  flaw  or  two  in  the  story  he  had 
told  him  regarding  that  key. 

"  It  is  this,"  replied  Don  :  "  When  that  floor- 
guard,  whatever  his  name  is,  let  me  in,  he  told 
me  to  keep  mum  ;  or,  if  I  opened  my  lips  at  all, 
to  deny  everything.  Now,  that  is  something  I'll 
not  do  to  please  or  screen  anybody." 

Don's  companions  were  utterly  astounded. 
They  withdrew  their  arms  from  his,  and  stood  off 
and  looked  at  him. 

"  I  didn't  think  you  were  that  sort  of  a  chap," 
said  Fisher. 


HOW    DON    GOT    IN.  145 

"Neither  did  I,"  exclaimed  Duncan.  "We 
have  been  deceived  in  you." 

"  You  certainly  have,  if  you  picked  me  up  for 
that  kind  of  a  fellow/'  answered  Don,  boldly, 
"  and  you  had  better  drop  me  like  a  hot  potato. 
All  the  secrets  you  have  intrusted  to  my  keeping 
are  perfectly  safe  with  me  ;  but  I  want  you  to 
understand  that  I  will  not  tell  a  barefaced  lie, 
if  I  should  chance  to  be  hauled  up,  to  keep  you 
or  any  one  else  out  of  trouble." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  will  confess  if 
you  are  hauled  up  ?  "  demanded  Duncan. 

"  If  the  superintendent  asks  me  if  I  ran  the 
guard  last  night,  I  shall  tell  him  the  truth. 
That's  what  I  mean." 

"  And  give  the  rest  of  us  away  too  ? "  ex- 
claimed Fisher. 

"By  no  means,"  answered  Don,  quickly.  "I 
didn't  say  that.  If  he  asks  me  any  questions  I 
don't  want  to  answer,  I  can  keep  my  mouth  shut, 
can't  I  ?  " 

"  But  will  you  ?     That's  the  point." 

"If  you  think  I  can't  be  trusted,  you  had 
better  drop  me,"  was  Don's  reply. 

It  was  plain  that  Tom  and  Clarence  were  very 
7 


146  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

much  disappointed  in  Don,  and  that  they  did 
not  know  what  to  make  of  him.  He  had  shown 
himself  perfectly  willing  to  hreak  the  rules  of 
the  school,  but  his  sense  of  honor  would  not 
permit  him  to  lie  about  it  in  order  to  escape  pun- 
ishment. They  had  never  before  met  a  boy  like 
him. 

"  I  don't  believe  such  a  fellow  ever  lived  since 
the  days  of  George  Washington,"  thought  Dun- 
can ;  "  and  neither  do  I  believe  he  means  what  he 
Bays.  If  he  is  questioned,  he  will  blow  the  whole 
thing,  and  some  of  us  will  be  sent  down  as  sure 
as  the  world.  Gordon  won't  do  to  tie  to — I  can 
see  that  with  half  an  eye.  If  you  will  excuse 
me,  fellows,"  he  added,  aloud,  "  I  will  go  and  ask 
Dick  Henderson  to  give  an  account  of  himself." 

Tom  would  have  been  glad  to  go  with  Duncan, 
for  he  wanted  an  opportunity  to  ask  him  what  he 
thought  of  this  boy  who  would  not  tell  a  lie 
when  circumstances  seemed  to  demand  it ;  but  as 
he  could  think  up  no  good  excuse  for  leaving  Don 
just  then,  he  remained  with  him,  and  Duncan 
went  off  alone.  Dick  was  easily  found,  for  he 
was  loitering  about  waiting  for  a  chance  to  speak 
to  Duncan  or  Fisher.  He  expected  that  there 


HOW    DON    GOT   IN.  147 

was  trouble  ahead,  and  he  wanted  it  distinctly 
understood  that  if  it  came,  Duncan  was  the  boy 
who  was  to  blame  for  it. 

"  You're  a  wise  one,  you  are,"  said  he,  when 
Clarence  came  up  to  him.  "  If  it  hadn't  been  for 
some  hocus-pocus  that  I  don't  begin  to  understand, 
you  would  have  got  us  all  into  a  nice  mess  by 
your  blundering.  You  told  me  to  halt  the  ninth 
man,  but  it  turned  out  to  be  somebody  besides 
Don  Gordon." 

"  There's  where  you  are  mistaken,"  said  Clar- 
ence. "  It  was  Gordon  and  nobody  else." 

"  But  he  gave  the  signal  all  fair  and  square," 
replied  Dick,  "  and  I'd  like  to  know  where  he  got 
it." 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know.  Fisher  didn't  give 
it  to  him  in  my  hearing,  and  I  didn't  suppose  he 
had  it.  I  don't  know  whether  to  be  glad  or  sorry 
that  you  didn't  succeed  in  stopping  him.  He's 
got  a  pocketful  of  money,  and  paid  our  bill  at 
Cony's  last  night  like  -a  gentleman  ;  but  he's  no 
good,  and  when  the  boys  hear  what  he  said  to 
Tom  and  me  just  a  few  minutes  ago,  I  don't  think 
they  will  go  on  any  more  excursions  with  him. 
He  says  that  he  will  not  blow  on  any  of  us,  but 


148       DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

if  he  is  accused  of  running  the  guard,  he  will 
acknowledge  it,  because  he  can't  tell  a  lie." 

"  Humph  ! "  exclaimed  Dick,  contemptuously. 
"Somebody  ought  to  make  him  the  hero  of  a 
Sunday-school  book.  "We  don't  want  anything 
more  to  do  with  him." 

"  That's  what  I  say.  Now  be  on  your  guard, 
and  be  careful  how  you  talk  to  him." 

"  But  what  shall  I  say  to  him  if  he  insists  on 
knowing  why  I  challenged  him  ?  " 

"  Tell  him  as  Fisher  did,  that  you  had  to  do  it 
in  order  to  protect  yourself ;  that  the  officer  of  the 
day  was  talking  with  post  No.  4,  or  something  of 
that  sort." 

Greatly  to  the  relief  and  surprise  of  Tom  Fisher 
and  his  party,  no  trouble  grew  out  of  that  night's 
work.  The  investigation  came  off  that  forenoon, 
but  the  matter  was  not  sifted  to  the  bottom,  as  the 
officer  of  the  day  had  declared  it  should  be,  for  the 
simple  reason  that  it  could  not  be  done.  All  the 
floor-guards  and  sentries  wljo  had  been  on  duty  be- 
tween the  hours  of  ten  in  the  evening  and  four  in 
the  morning  were  subjected  to  a  thorough  exami- 
nation ;  but  nothing  was  drawn  from  them.  The 
innocent  had  nothing  to  tell,  and  the  guilty  ones 


HOW  DON   GOT   IN.  149 

were  such  adepts  at  lying  that  they  succeeded  in 
escaping  punishment,  even  if  they  did  not  succeed 
in  escaping  suspicion.  Dick  Henderson  said  he 
had  tried  to  stop  somebody  who  ran  past  him  ;  but 
he  was  quite  positive  that  he  did  not  know  who  he 
was.  The  officer  of  the  day  and  the  corporal  of 
the  guard  were  certain  that  they  had  looked  into 
every  room  on  all  the  floors,  and  that  every  bed 
was  occupied.  The  only  conclusion  the  superin- 
tendent could  come  to  was,  that  somebody  had 
been  outside  the  grounds  after  taps  ;  but  who  he 
was,  and  how  he  got  out,  were  other  and  deeper 
questions.  He  held  a  council  of  war  with  the 
teachers  after  completing  the  examination  of  the 
sentries,  and  with  them  discussed  various  plans 
for  preventing  such  excursions  in  future,  or,  at 
least,  making  them  more  difficult  of  accomplish- 
ment. One  suggestion  which  he  decided  to  adopt 
was  carried  out  that  very  afternoon. 

Of  course  Don  and  his  guilty  comrades  were 
very  anxious  to  learn. the  result  of  the  investiga- 
tion ;  and  when  the  hour  of  recreation  came,  they 
sent  out  some  of  their  number  to  interview  the 
sentries  and  floor-guards.  The  reports  these 
faithful  scouts  brought  back  were  very  encourag- 


150  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

ing.  The  general  impression  among  the  sentries 
who  had  faithfully  performed  their  duty  the  night 
before  seemed  to  be  that,  although  the  teachers 
had  their  suspicions,  they  would  not  proceed  any 
further  in  the  matter  for  the  simple  reason  that , 
nothing  could  be  proved  against  anybody.  They 
were  also  united  in  the  belief  that  in  future  the 
buildings  and  grounds  would  be  more  closely 
guarded. 

"  Well,  as  soon  as  we  find  out  what  new  pre- 
cautions are  to  be  taken,  we  can  lay  our  plans 
accordingly,  said  Fisher  to  his  friend  Duncan. 
"  What  is  it,  Bub  ?  "  he  added,  turning  to  Dick 
Henderson,  who  just  then  hurried  up  with  a  face 
full  of  news. 

"Come  with  me  and  see  for  yourselves," 
answered  Dick.  "Last  night's  work  was  an  un- 
lucky thing  for  us,  but  I  am  not  to  blame  for  it." 

Dick  led  the  way  around  the  academy  building 
and  stopped  in  front  of  the  back  door.  It  was 
open,  and  in  the  lower  hall  stood  a  carpenter 
who  was  bending  over  a  box  of  tools.  Fisher 
and  Duncan  looked  at  Dick,  but  he  only  shrugged 
his  shoulders  arid  waved  his  hand  toward  the 
man,  as  if  to  say  that  if  they  wanted  any  in- 


HOW   DON    GOT    IN.  151 

formation  they  could  ask  it  of  hjm.  Taking  the 
hint,  Tom  inquired  : 

"  What  are  you  doing  in  there  ? — Anything 
broken  ?  " 

"  Not  that  I  know  of,"  replied  the  man,  looking 
np  to  see  who  it  was  that  addressed  him.  "  I  am 
putting  some  new  fastenings  on  these  doors  so 
that  you  boys  can't  slip  out  so  easily  of  nights. 
I  am  afraid  you  are  getting  to  be  a  bad  lot — a 
very  bad  lot,"  he  added,  with  a  grin,  as  he  picked 
up  three  or  four  strong  bolts  and  made  his  way 
up  the  stairs. 

Clarence  was  thunderstruck,  while  Tom  was  so 
highly  enraged  that  for  a  minute  or  two  he 
could  not  trust  himself  to  speak 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DON'S    YANKEE   INVENTION. 

"  T  AM  not  to  blame  for  it,  fellows,"  repeated 
Dick.  "  I  did  just  as  I  was  told  to  do,  as 
nearly  as  I  could.  I  know  I  did  not  succeed  in 
stopping  Don  Gordon,  and  I  don't  believe  there 
is  a  boy  in  school  who  could  have  stopped  him ; 
but  I  did  my  best." 

"I  hope  you  see  now  what  you  have  done  by 
your  meddling,"  exclaimed  Tom,  turning  fiercely 
upon  Duncan.  "  You  are  not  at  all  to  blame, 
Dick;  only  another  time  don't  take  any  private 
orders  from  anybody.  We  all  run  the  same  risk, 
and  we  ought  all  to  have  a  word  to  say  in  re- 
gard to  the  manner  in  which  things  shall  be 
conducted." 

"  If  Dick  had  stopped  Gordon,  as  I  told  him 
to  do,  this  thing  never  would  have  happened," 
said  Duncan,  as  soon  as  he  had  had  time  to 
collect  his  wits. 

"There's  where  I  differ  with  you,"  answered 


DON'S   YANKEE   INVENTION.  153 

Tom.  "The  fact  that  Gordon  wasn't  stopped 
does  not  in  the  least  alter  the  case,  so  far  as 
these  bolts  are  concerned.  If  Don  had  been 
caught,  the  bolts  would  have  been  put  on  all 
the  same,  and,  furthermore,  you  and  I  and 
all  the  rest  of  us  would  have  had  to  stand  a 
court-martial,  for  Don  would  have  gone  back  on 
us  as  sure  as  you  are  a  foot  high.  Dick  ought 
to  have  let  him  pass." 

"And  I  would,  too,  if  Clarence  hadn't  told 
me  to  halt  him,"  exclaimed  Dick. 

"I  know  it.  Duncan  is  the  one  we  have  to 
thank  for  the  loss  of  many  pleasant  evenings 
we  might  have  had  this  winter.  We  may  as 
well  throw  away  our  keys,  for  they  will  be  of 
no  further  use  to  us,  now  that  the  doors  are  to 
be  bolted  on  the  inside." 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  should  take  on  so 
about  those  bolts,"  exclaimed  Duncan,  who  be- 
gan to  think  he  had  been  scolded  quite  enough. 
"  If  we  wanted  to  go  to  Cony's  to-night,  what 
is  there  to  hinder  one  of  us  from  slipping  up 
the  stairs  as  soon  as  this  man  goes  away,  and 
drawing  the  bolts  ?  Don't  throw  away  your 
key  yet,  Tom.  It  may  come  handy  to  you." 


154  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

Fisher,  who  was  too  angry  to  reply,  turned  on 
his  heel  and  walked  away.  Before  many  hours 
had  passed  all  the  boys  belonging  to  the  "  set " 
had  heard  about  the  bolts,  and  listened  with  no 
little  indignation  to  the  story  of  Clarence  Dun-  , 
can's  "  meddling  " — all  except  Don  G-ordon,  who 
did  not  know  that  he  was  the  victim  of  mis- 
placed confidence.  The  fellows  were  careful  to 
keep  that  from  his  ears  for  fear  that  he  and 
Clarence  would  come  to  blows  over  it.  Some 
of  them,  would  have  looked  upon  a  fight  be- 
tween these  two  as  an  interesting  spectacle ; 
but  they  knew  that  it  would  be  followed  by 
a  court  of  inquiry,  during  which  some  things 
they  wanted  to  keep  concealed  would  probably 
be  brought  to  light.  They  had  learned  that  it 
was  not  quite  safe  to  trust  their  friend  Dun- 
can too  far ;  and  as  for  Don,  he  was  a  stranger, 
and  there  was  no  telling  how  he  would  act  or 
what  he  would  say  when  he  was  told  that 
he  could  take  his  choice  between  answering 
such  questions  as  were  propounded  to  him,  and 
being  punished  by  expulsion  from  the  school. 

"  That  would   bring  him    to  his  senses,"  said 
Tom  to  some  of  his  cronies  who  had  gathered 


DON'S   YANKEE   INVENTION.  155 

about  him  to  talk  over  the  situation.  "He 
says  he  wouldn't  blow  on  us,  but  I  don't  be- 
lieve a  word  of  it.  There  isn't  a  boy  in  school 
who  can  stand  defiant  in  the  presence  of  the 
superintendent  when  he  draws  down  those  gray 
eyebrows  of  his  and  looks  at  a  fellow  as  if 
he  meant  to  pierce  him  through.  Hallo  !  here 
comes  Henderson  with  more  news.  He's  a  bully 
little  scout,  even  if  he  did  come  near  getting  us 
all  into  trouble  by  halting  Don  Gordon.  What 
is  it  this  time,  Dick  ?  " 

"We  may  as  well  follow  your  advice  and 
throw  away  our  keys,  for  they  are  of  no  use 
to  us  now,"  was  Dick's  reply.  "  The  officer  of 
the  day  goes  up  and  tries  those  doors  and  ex- 
amines the  new  fastenings  as  regularly  as  he 
makes  his  rounds." 

"  There  !  "  exclaimed  Tom,  in  great  disgust. 
"You  see  what  Duncan  has  brought  us  to  by 
being  so  smart.  No  more  pancakes  for  us." 

During  the  next  few  weeks  nothing  happened 
at  the  academy  that  is  worthy  of  record.  Duncan 
and  Don  Gordon  had  rather  a  lonely  time  of  it, 
for  the  members  of  the  "  set "  were  not  as  cordial 
toward  them  as  they  used  to  be.  They  did 


156  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

not  cut  them  entirely,  for  they  did  not  think 
that  would  be  quite  safe ;  but  they  did  not 
seek  them  out  and  associate  with  them  as 
freely  as  they  would  if  they  had  been  on  friendly 
terms.  Duncan  took  it  very  much  to  heart, 
but  Don  did  not  seem  to  care.  He  studied 
and  drilled  with  the  rest,  and  having  served 
the  sentence  that  had  been  passed .  upon  him 
for  overstaying  the  time  for  which  his  leave  of 
absence  was  granted,  he  began  to  feel  and  act 
more  like  himself.  So  did  Bert,  who  soon  be- 
gan to  count  his  friends  by  the  score.  They 
were  true  friends,  too,  and  very  unlike  the  boys 
who  belonged  to  Tom  Fisher's  crowd. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  Plebes  began  to 
show  the  result  of  their  regular  and  fatiguing 
drills.  They  became  handy  with  their  muskets, 
very  proficient  in  company  and  battalion  evo- 
lutions, and,  finally,  they  were  ordered  to  go  on 
dress  parade.  This  honor  brought  with  it  a 
duty  from  which  they  had  thus  far  been  ex- 
empt, that  of  standing  guard. 

Up  to  this  time  Cony  Kyan  had  been  deserted 
by  all  except  a  very  few  of  his  old  patrons  who 
sometimes  passed  an  hour  or  two  there  of  a 


DON'S   YANKEE   INVENTION.  157 

Saturday  afternoon ;  but  they  never  came  away 
without  telling  one  another  that  they  had  not 
enjoyed  themselves  in  the  least — that  their  visits 
now  were  not  at  all  like  the  jolly  times  they  used 
to  have  when  they  crowded  into  his  little  par- 
lor after  creeping  by  the  sentries.  There  had 
been  none  of  that  sort  of  work  of  late.  The 
sight  of  the  bolts  the  carpenter  had  put  on  the 
doors,  and  the  increased  vigilance  of  the  officer 
of  the  day,  had  taken  all  the  courage  out  of 
the  bravest  of  them ;  at  least  so  it  seemed, 
for  no  one  ever  thought  of  running  the  guard 
now.  Tom  Fisher  had  almost  forgotten  that  he 
had  ever  done  such  a  thing,  when  one  day  he 
was  approached  by  Don  Gordon,  who  beckoned 
him  off  on  one  side. 

"Look  here,  old  fellow,"  said  Don,  "you'll  dry 
up  and  blow  away  if  you  don't  have  some  excite- 
ment to  put  your  blood  in  circulation.  If  you 
want  to  go  down  to  Cony's  again,  to-night  is 
your  time." 

"  But  the  bolts  ! "  exclaimed  Tom,  greatly 
surprised. 

"  The  bolts  won't  delay  you  five  minutes/' 
replied  Don,  confidently.  "  I  haven't  been  idle 


158  DON    GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

during  the  last  few  days,  and  I  have  found  a 
way  to  draw  those  bolts." 

"  I  could  do  it  myself  by  going  up  the  back 
stairs,"  said  Tom ;  "  but  the  officer  of  the  day 
would  find  it  out  the  first  time  he  made  his 
round.  Besides,  we  want  to  get  in  after  we  have 
gone  out,  and  how  would  we  throw  those  bolts 
back  to  their  place  when  the  door  was  closed 
behind  us  ?  Have  you  thought  of  that  ?  " 

"  I  have ;  but  I  can  show  you  how  it  can  be 
done  easier  than  I  can  explain  it  to  you.  We 
can't  go  up  to  my  floor  to  operate,  for  Bert  is 
standing  guard  there.  Who's  on  your  floor  ?  " 

"  Clarence  Duncan." 

"  Are  you  willing  to  trust  him  ?  I  notice  that 
you  and  he  are  not  quite  as  thick  as  you  used  to 
be/' 

"  I've  got  to  trust  him  whether  I  am  willing  or 
not.  If  I  should  go  back  on  him  entirely  he 
would  find  a  way  to  get  me  into  a  row  that  would 
send  me  down." 

"  I  don't  see  how  he  could  make  anything  by 
that.  He  is  as  deep  in  the  mud  as  you  are,  and 
he  would  probably  be  sent  down  himself." 

"He   wouldn't  care  for   that.      He'll  go   any 


DON'S   YANKEE   INVENTION.  159 

lengths  to  injure  a  boy  he  hates.  That's  his 
style.  I  have  managed  to  keep  up  a  show  of 
friendship  with  him,  and  I  know  he  will  let  you 
do  anything  you  like  on  his  floor.  Come  on." 

Clarence,  who  was  seated  in  his  chair  reading 
a  sensational  story  paper  that  one  of  the  students 
had  smuggled  into  the  academy,  nodded  to  Tom, 
returned  Don's  salute,  and  would  probably  have 
paid  no  further  attention  to  them  had  he  not  seen 
them  turn  into  the  hall  that  led  to  the  fire-escape. 
This  excited  his  curiosity  and  he  arose  and  fol- 
lowed them. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  here  ? "  he 
demanded. 

"Gordon  has  discovered  a  way  to  open  these 
doors,"  replied  Tom. 

"Not  from  this  side,"  exclaimed  Duncan. 

"  Yes,  from  this  side,"  said  Don.  "  I  have 
done  it  once,  and  I  know  I  can  do  it  again." 

Duncan,  who  believed  that  the  feat  could  not 
possibly  be  accomplished,  was  unable  to  find 
words  with  which  to  express  his  surprise.  He 
could  only  look  bewildered.  He  took  up  a  posi- 
tion in  the  main  hall  so  that  he  could  watch  the 
stairs  and  guard  against  intrusion,  and  occasion- 


160  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

all}'  turned  his  eyes  toward  Don,  whose  proceed- 
ings he  watched  with  the  greatest  interest. 

Don's  first  act  was  to  produce  his  pocket-knife, 
with  which  he  removed  from  the  lower  left-hand 
corner  of  the  panel  above  the  lock  a  round  plug 
of  wood,  which  fitted  into  a  hole  about  half  an 
inch  in  diameter.  The  top  of  the  plug  AVUS 
painted  white,  like  the  door,  and  it  filled  the 
opening  so  accurately  that  the  different  officers 
of  the  day,  who  had  probably  looked  at  it  a 
hundred  times  since  it  had  been  placed  there,  had 
never  seen  it.  Don  then  pulled  out  of  his  pocket 
a  short,  crooked  wire,  one  end  of  which  was  bent 
into  the  form  of  a  hook  and  the  other  made  into 
the  shape  of  a  ring.  The  hook  he  inserted  into 
the  hole  in  the  panel,  and  a  moment  later  the  bolt 
was  heard  to  slide  from  its  socket. 

"  There  you  are,"  said  he,  turning  to  Tom. 
"  Now,  take  out  your  key  and  open  the  door." 

Tom  obeyed,  lost  in  wonder,  and  then  he  and 
Duncan  stepped  forward  to  see  how  Don's  inven- 
tion worked.  Simple  as  it  was,  it  was  admirably 
adapted  to  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  intended. 
"The  only  difficult  thing  about  it,"  said  Don,  in 
explanation,  "  is  to  get  the  hook  around  the  knob 


DON'S   YANKEE   INVENTION.  161 

of  the  bolt.  That  done,  a  simple  turn  of  the  wrist 
does  the  rest." 

"  Gordon,  you're  a  good  one,"  exclaimed  Tom. 
"  You  ought  to  be  a  Yankee." 

"  This  is  a  Yankee  invention — at  least  a  New 
England  carpenter  was  the  one  who  brought  it  to 
my  notice,"  answered  Don,  as  Fisher  closed  and 
locked  the  door.  "  While  he  was  doing  some 
work  on  our  plantation,  our  smoke-house  and 
corn-cribs  were  robbed  more  than  a  dozen  times: 
It  seemed  impossible  for  father  to  get  locks  that 
could  not  be  picked  or  broken.  The  carpenter 
said  he  could  put  a  stop  to  that  business,  and  he 
did  it  by  making  some  heavy  wooden  bolts, 
working  on  the  same  principle  that  this  one  does, 
only  there  were  three  or  four  knobs  in  them 
instead  of  one.  Then  he  made  a  key,  in  shape 
something  like  this  one  of  mine,  and  when  we 
wanted  to  shut  up  for  the  night,  all  we  had  to  do 
was  to  throw  the  bolts  to  their  places,  take  out 
the  wire,  and  the  doors  were  fast.  There  was  but 
one  way  to  pass  them,  and  that  was  to  break 
them  down  ;  and  if  anybody  had  tried  that  he 
would  have  got  himself  into  business  directly,  for  I 
own  some  dogs  that  won't  permit  any  such  doings," 


162  TON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

-  "  Well,  I've  locked  the  door,"  said  Tom,  when 
Don  ceased  speaking,  "  and  now  I'd  like  to  see 
you  throw  that  bolt  back  again.  That's  impor- 
tant, you  know." 

Don  said  he  knew  it.  He  thrust  his  wire 
through  the  opening  again,  and  in  a  second  more 
the  bolt  was  shot  into  its  socket.  In  order  to 
make  sure  of  it,  Tom  unlocked  the  door  again  and 
tried  to  open  it ;  but  the  bolt  held  it  fast.  Don's 
plan  would  work  to  perfection — Fisher  and  Dun- 
can were  sure  of  it. 

"  When  did  you  find  opportunity  to  do  all  this 
work?  "  asked  the  former. 

"  0,  I  did  it  at  odd  times  when  I  thought 
there  was  the  least  danger  of  being  caught ; 
but,  I  tell  you,  I  had  a  narrow  escape  once.  I 
was  working  on  this  very  door,  and  Tom,  you 
were  floor-guard  at  the  time.  You  see  there  were  a 
good  many  days  when  I  couldn't  do  anything  at 
all  on  account  of  the  guards,  who  I  knew  were  not 
to  be  trusted.  Well,  I  was  working  there  in  the 
dark  and  had  just  put  the  plug  into  the  hole, 
when  the  bell  rang.  I  had  been  oblig'ed  to  do 
some  whittling  in  order  to  make  the  plug  fit  to 
suit  me,  but  I  had  been  careful  to  put  all  the 


DON'S   YANKEE   INVENTION.  163 

shavings  on  a  piece  of  paper.  If  I  had  left  them 
on  the  floor,  and  anybody  had  come  in  there  with  a 
lantern,  he  would  have  seen  them,  of  course,  and 
I  should  have  had  my  work  for  nothing.  When 
I  heard  the  bell  ring,  I  grabbed  up  that  piece  of 
paper  and  started  for  the  stairs  ;  but  just  then 
the  back  door  opened,  and  who  should  come  in 
but  the  officer  of  the  day." 

Don's  auditors,  who  were  listening  with  almost 
breathless  interest,  uttered  ejaculations  indicative 
of  the  greatest  surprise  and  sympathy. 

"  I  thought  I  was  fairly  cornered,"  continued 
Don,  "  and  at  first  I  did  not  know  what  to  do.  I 
listened  until  I  heard  the  officer  go  into  the  hall 
on  the  lower  floor,  and  then  I  jerked  off  my  boots 
and  went  up  the  next  two  flights  of  stairs,  and  up 
the  ladder  that  leads  to  the  scuttle  ;  and  there  I 
sat  on  one  of  the  topmost  rounds  until  he  tried 
all  the  doors  and  went  down  again." 

"  Don,  you're  a  good  one,"  said  Fisher,  again. 
';  But  why  didn't  you  let  us  know  what  you  were 
doing  ?  Some  of  us  might  have  helped  you." 

"  Weft,  you  see,  I  expected  to  be  caught,  and  I 
wanted  to  be  able  to  say  that  I  had  received  no 
assistance,  and  that  nobody  knew  what  I  was  up 


164  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

to.  I  couldn't  have  told  that  story  if  I  had  taken 
you  into  my  confidence  ;  and  I  wouldn't,  either." 

We  confess  to  a  great  liking  for  Don  Gordon, 
and  to  a  positive  admiration  of  his  moral  as  well 
as  physical  courage  ;  but  we  are  not  blind  to  his 
failings.  We  have  no  patience  with  the  way  he 
acted  at  school  after  the  solemn  promises  he  had 
made  his  mother — they  were  all  forgotten  now — 
nor  do  we  like  the  way  he  reasoned  with  himself. 
In  his  opinion  there  were  different  grades  of  lies. 
For  example :  If  the  superintendent  had  asked 
him  if  it  were  he  who  had  been  halted  by  Dick 
Henderson  on  a  certain  morning,  he  would  have 
promptly  replied  that  it  was — the  fear  of  punish- 
ment would  not  have  made  him  deny  it ;  and  yet 
when  he  reached  his  room  he  told  Bert  a  lie, 
although  every  word  he  uttered  was  the  truth. 
By  the  answers  he  gave  to  Bert's  questions  he  led 
the  latter  to  infer  that  the  officer  of  the  day  was 
the  only  one  who  had  come  into  that  room,  and 
we  know  that  such  was  not  the  case.  Don  was 
not  altogether  consistent. 

"  Are  all  the  doors  that  lead  into  the  fire-escape 
fixed  in  this  way  ?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  No  ;  only  yours  and  mine.     There  was  no  need 


DON'S   YANKEE   INVENTION.  165 

of  bothering  with  the  other  two  doors,  for  the 
boys  in  the  first  and  second  classes  don't  run  with 
our  crowd." 

"That's  so,"  said  Duncan;  "but  I  know  that 
some  of  them  go  to  Cony  Ryan's  as  regularly  as 
we  do." 

"They  used  to,"  said  Tom;  "but  I  don't 
think  they  have  been  there  since  these  new  fas- 
tenings were  put  on.  What  shall  I  do  with 
this  ?  "  he  added,  as  Don  passed  the  wire  over  to 
him. 

"  Why,  take  it  and  use  it." 

"  Then  what  will  you  do  ?  " 

"I  have  another,  but  I  shall  not  need  it  to- 
night." 

"  Are  you  not  going  down  to  Cony's  with  us  ?  " 

"  1  can't.  I  am  to  relieve  Henderson  on  post 
No.  8  at  midnight ;  so  you'll  have  to  go  out  and 
come  in  by  Dick  and  me." 

That  night  everything  passed  off  smoothly. 
The  guards  who  held  the  floor  when  Tom  and  a 
chosen  few  went  out  and  in,  were  accommodating  ; 
the  bolt  was  easily  worked  by  the  aid  of  the  wire 
Don  had  fashioned  ;  the  sentries  on  post  No.  8 
kept  themselves  out  of  sight ;  the  pancakes  and 


166  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

syrup  were  excellent ;  the  night  was  passed  in  a 
most  agreeable  manner  ;  and  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning  the  guard-runners  were  all  sleeping  soundly 
in  their  beds,  and  no  one  was  the  wiser  for  what 
they  had  done.  They  missed  Don  (especially  Torn 
Fisher,  who  had  to  pay  his  share  of  the  bill  from 
a  very  slender  purse),  whom  they  as  well  as  Cony 
Eyan  declared  to  be  an  honor  to  his  class. 

"  It  begins  to  look  as  though  the  old  times  were 
coming  back  again/'  said  Cony,  as  he  sat  by  and 
saw  his  pancakes  disappear  before  the  attacks  of 
his  visitors,  who  ate  as  though  they  never  had 
anything  good  served  up  to  them  at  the  academy. 
"I  tell  you  the  boys  who  went  to  school  here 
years  ago,  some  of  whom  are  now  men  with  boys 
of  their  own  to  look  after,  were  a  sharp  lot.  You 
couldn't  keep  them  in  if  they  didn't  want  to  stay, 
and  there  was  no  use  in  trying.  Of  late  you  fellows 
haven't  done  anything  to  be  proud  of;  but  per- 
haps this  young  Gordon  will  put  some  life  into 
you." 

And  he  certainly  did.  Guard-running,  in  which 
Don  took  an  active  part,  became  of  common  oc- 
currence, although  the  teachers  never  suspected 
it ;  and  Cony  Ryan  slapped  his  well-lined  pockets 


DON'S    YANKEE    INVENTION.  167 

and  blessed  the  day  that  brought  Don  Gordon  to 
the  Bridgeport  academy.  But  the  reckoning  came 
at  last,  though  long  delayed,  and  Don,  aided  by 
an  unexpected  proceeding  on  the  part  of  Tom 
Fisher,  did  something  that  raised  him  to  a  high 
place  in  the  estimation  of  all  the  students,  and 
knocked  the  "set"  so  high  that  it  never  came 
down  again  ;  at  least  it  was  never  heard  of  after- 
ward. It  came  about  in  this  way : 

Winter  had  passed,  the  snow  had  disappeared, 
the  ice  was  all  out  of  the  river,  the  buds  were  start- 
ing on  the  maple  trees,  and  those  of  the  students 
who  were  ambitious  to  be  something  better  than 
privates  in  their  companies,  were  studying  night 
and  day  to  prepare  themselves  for  the  approaching 
examination.  These  found  rest  and  recreation  by 
whipping  the  neighboring  brooks  for  trout  on 
Saturday  afternoon  (you  know  it  is  time  to  begin 
trout-fishing  when  the  maple  buds  start),  while 
Tom  Fisher  and  his  followers  diverted  themselves 
by  running  the  guard  as  often  as  the  opportunity 
was  presented. 

On  a  certain  night  one  of  Tom's  friends  who 
held  one  of  the  outside  posts  from  eight  o'clock 
until  midnight,  was  taken  suddenly  ill,  and  was 


168      DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

relieved  by  the  corporal,  his  beat  being  taken  by 
a  boy  who  did  not  belong  to  the  "  set."  Tom  had 
made  arrangements  for  visiting  Cony  Kyan's,  and 
Don  Gordon  had  charge  of  his  floor.  When  taps 
had  sounded,  and  the  officer  of  the  day  had  made 
his  rounds,  the  guard-runners  left  their  dormito- 
ries, one  by  one,  Don  turning  his  back  so  that  he 
did  not  see  them  as  they  passed.  They  left  the 
building  without  being  discovered,  but  when  they 
attempted  to  pass  the  sentry,  their  troubles  began. 
They  were  halted,  and  by  a  voice  that  did  not 
belong  to  the  friend  they  had  expected  to  find  on 
that  post.  Amazed  and  disconcerted,  they  hud- 
dled together  for  a  moment  like  a  flock  of  sheep 
that  had  been  suddenly  frightened,  and  then, 
knowing  that  there  was  but  one  thing  they  could 
do,  they  turned  and  started  for  the  academy  on  a 
dead  run,  the  vigilant  sentry  all  the  while  rending 
the  air  with  his  lusty  calls  for  the  corporal  of  the 
guard.  They  tumbled  up  the  stairs,  gained  access 
to  the  floor  on  which  their  dormitories  were  situ- 
ated, pulled  oif  their  uniforms  without  loss  of 
time  and  went  to  bed,  as  miserable  and  frightened 
a  lot  of  boys  as  the  walls  of  that  academy  had  ever 
inclosed. 


DON'S   YANKEE   INVENTION.  169 

"Did  you  ever  hear  of  anything  so  very  un- 
fortunate ?  "  whispered  Fisher  to  his  friend  Dun- 
can. "If  there  was  any  one  of  our  fellows 
except  Gordon  in  charge  of  this  floor,  we  should 
be  all  right,  for  it  is  as  dark  as  a  pocket  out 
of  doors,  and  I  know  that  that  sentry  could  not 
have  recognized  us." 

"We  ought  never  to  have  had  anything  to 
do  with  Gordon  in  the  first  place,"  whispered 
Duncan,  in  reply. 

"  That's  what  I  have  thought  for  a  long  time  ; 
but  it  is  too  late  to  mend  the  matter  now.  There 
they  are,"  he  added,  as  the  sound  of  footsteps  on 
the  stairs  came  to  their  ears.  "  It  is  all  over  with 
us  now." 

So  thought  Don  Gordon,  only  he  used  the  word 
"me"  instead  of  "us."  "I  am  in  for  it,"  he 
soliloquized,  "and  I  would  give  something  to 
know  what  they  will  do  with  me.  I'll  not  go 
back  on  the  boys,  and  that's  flat.  The  superin- 
tendent will  give  me  a  lively  shake-up,  of  course  ; 
and  then  what  will  Bert  say  ?  What  will  mother 
think  ?" 

When  the  officer  of  the  day,  attended  as  usual 
by  the  corporal,  came  up  the  stairs,  he  found  Don 
8 


170  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

pacing  slowly  along  the  hall  with  his  hands  be- 
hind his  back.  They  returned  his  salute,  but 
did  not  speak  to  him.  They  went  to  the  upper 
end  of  the  hall  and  began  a  thorough  examination 
of  all  the  rooms,  the  officer  of  the  day  arousing 
the  occupant  of  every  bed,  while  the  corporal  held 
his  lantern  aloft  so  that  the  face  of  each  one  could 
be  plainly  seen.  Don's  dummy  would  not  have 
saved  him  this  time.  When  they  had  satisfied 
themselves  that  no  one  on  that  floor  was  missing, 
and  had  tried  the  door  opening  into  the  hall 
that  led  to  the  fire-escape,  they  went  up  the  stairs 
to  look  into  the  dormitories  on  the  floors  above. 
In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  they  went  back  to  the 
guard-room,  and  Don  was  left  alone.  Scarcely 
had  the  sound  of  their  footsteps  died  away  in 
the  lower  hall  when  a  dozen  doors  were  softly 
opened,  and  almost  twice  as  many  heads  were 
thrust  cautiously  out.  "What's  the  row,  Gor- 
don ?  "  was  the  whispered  chorus  that  saluted 
Don's  ears.  "  What  did  the  officer  of  the  day 
wake  us  up  for  ?  Anybody  out  ?  " 

"  There's  no  one  out  who  belongs  on  this  floor," 
replied  Don.  "And  if  there  has  been  anything 
going  on  up  stairs,  I  don't  know  it." 


DON'S   YANKEE   INVENTION.  171 

"  What  did  he  say  to  you  ?  " 

"  Not  a  word  ?  " 

The  students  were  all  surprised  to  hear  this, 
and  there  were  some  among  them  who  were 
frightened  as  well.  After  a  few  more  questions, 
which  brought  no  information  from  Don  for  the 
simple  reason  that  he  had  none  to  impart,  the 
students  all  went  back  to  bed  except  Fisher  and 
Duncan,  who  lingered  to  have  a  word  with  Don 
in  private.  They  were  ill  at  ease,  and  told  them- 
selves that  Avhen  the  new  fastenings  were  put  on 
the  doors,  some  new  routine  had  been  adopted  of 
which  they  had  not  yet  heard. 

"  Didn't  he  ask  you  any  questions  at  all — 
not  a  single  one  ?  "  whispered  Fisher. 

"  He  didn't  open  his  lips,"  answered  Don. 

"  Didn't  say  anything  to  you  about  reporting 
to  him  as  soon  as  you  were  relieved,  did  he  ? " 
put  in  Duncan,  who  thought  Don  must  surely  be 
mistaken. 

"  How  could  he,  when  he  didn't  open  his  lips  ?  " 
asked  Don,  in  reply. 

"  This  is  an  unusual  way  of  doing  business," 
said  Tom,  reflectively,  "and  there's  something 
about  it  that  doesn't  look  just  right  to  me.  Now, 


172  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

mark  my  words,  fellows :  they're  going  to  spring 
something  new  on  us,  and  they  will  do  it  so  sud- 
denly, that  it  will  knock  us  flatter  than  one  of 
Cony  Ryan's  pancakes.     You'll  see." 
And  sure  enough  they  did. 


CHAPTEK  X. 

BREAKING    UP    THE    "SET." 

~[T  was  an  eager  and  anxious  lot  of  boys 
who  answered  to  roll-call  the  next  morning. 
Of  course  they  knew  that  a  party  of  their  fel- 
lows had  been  challenged  while  they  were  at- 
tempting to  run  the  guard,  and  they  were 
impatient  to  learn  who  they  were,  and  what 
the  superintendent  was  going  to  do  about  it. 
Two  things  astonished  and  bewildered  them  : 
They  could  not  imagine  how  the  culprits  had 
managed  to  leave  the  building  and  get  back  again 
so  easily,  and  neither  could  they  understand 
why  the  officer  of  the  day  had  neglected  to 
question  the  floor-guards.  They  believed,  with 
Tom  Fisher,  that  something  new  was  to  be 
"  sprung "  on  them  ;  and  as  soon  as  breakfast 
was  over,  they  found  out  what  it  was.  On 
ordinary  occasions  the  quartermaster-sergeants 
marched  their  respective  companies  to  and  from 
the  dining-hall  ;  but  on  this  particular  morning 
the  captains  took  command  and  led  them  to 


174  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

the  drill-room,  where  they  were  drawn  up  in 
line  as  they  were  when  preparing  for  dress- 
parade.  The  teachers  were  all  there,  and  many 
a  sly  and  inquiring  glance  was  cast  toward  them  ; 
but  their  countenances  revealed  nothing. 

"Right  dress! — Front!"  commanded  the 
captains,  as  the  companies  came  into  line  ;  and 
when  these  orders  had  been  obeyed,  the  super- 
intendent, who  stood  in  the  place  that  is  occu- 
pied by  the  battalion  commander  during  dress- 
parade,  thus  addressed  them  : 

"  Young  gentlemen,"  said  he,  and  his  tones 
were  not  near  as  stern  and  severe  as  the  boys 
expected  they  would  be,  "  I  am  sorry  to  hear 
that  some  of  you  attempted  to  run  the  guard 
last  night.  Heretofore,  when  such  offences  have 
been  committed,  it  has  been  our  rule  to  examine 
the  floor-guards  and  sentries  who  were  on  duty 
at  the  time,  but  we  have  seldom  succeeded  in 
drawing  from  them  any  information  that  would 
lead  to  the  detection  of  the  guilty  parties.  A 
student  who  will  prove  false  to  his  duty,  and 
violate  the  confidence  reposed  in  him,  will  not 
scruple  to  tell  any  number  of  falsehoods  to  con- 
ceal his  wrong-doing.  Now  I  intend,  before  these 


BREAKING   UP   THE    "  SET."  175 

ranks  are  broken,  to  learn  the  names  of  all 
those  who  tried  to  run  by  post  No.  8  last 
night,  as  well  as  the  name  of  the  floor-guard 
who  permitted  them  to  pass.  The  first  ser- 
geants will  now  call  the  roll,  and  you  can 
answer  'guilty,'  or  'not  guilty/  just  as  your 
sense  of  honor  may  seem  to  dictate.  If  inno- 
cent, simply  answer  '  here '  and  keep  your  place  in 
the  ranks ;  if  you  are  guilty,  step  three  paces 
to  the  front.  I  put  you  all  upon  your  honor." 

When  the  superintendent  ceased  speaking,  the 
first  sergeants  moved  to  the  front  and  centre  of 
their  respective  companies,  and  the  roll-call  be- 
gan. As  it  proceeded,  more  than  one  boy  stand- 
ing in  the  ranks  of  the  third  company  tried 
to  twist  himself  around  so  that  he  could  catch 
a  glimpse  of  Don  Gordon's  face,  hoping  to  see 
something  there  that  would  give  him  a  hint  of 
the  course  Don  intended  to  pursue  when  his 
turn  came  to  answer  to  his  name. 

"  He  certainly  will  not — he  dare  not — confess," 
were  the  thoughts  that  passed  through  their 
minds.  "  If  he  does,  he  will  be  sent  down,  sure. 
If  some  one  could  only  get  a  chance  to  whisper 
a  word  or  two  in  his  ear,  we  would  come 


176  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

out  all  right  yet,  in  spite  of  this  honor  busi- 
ness." 

The  anxiety  and  alarm  experienced  by  these 
boys  showed  very  plainly  in  their  countenances, 
and  before  the  roll-call  had  been  going  on  for 
two  minutes,  the  superintendent  could  have 
stepped  forward  and  picked  out  every  one  of  the 
guard-runners. 

The  names  of  the  boys  belonging  to  the  first 
and  second  companies  were  called  in  quick  suc- 
cession, and  as  yet  nobody  had  stepped  to  the 
front.  The  culprits,  in  this  instance,  all  belonged 
to  the  third  class,  with  the  single  exception  of 
Don  Grordon,  who,  having  long  ago  made  up  his 
mind  what  he  would  do,  waited  with  some  im- 
patience to  see  how  his  companions  in  guilt  would 
stand  the  test.  The  result  was  just  what  he 
might  have  expected. 

"Clarence  Duncan,"  said  the  third  company 
sergeant. 

"  Here,"  answered  the  owner  of  that  name, 
making  a  desperate  but  unsuccessful  effort  to 
appear  at  his  ease. 

"  George  W.  Brown." 

"Here." 


BREAKING   UP   THE    "SET."  177 

"  Richard  Henderson." 

"  Here." 

"Thomas  Fisher." 

"Here." 

"  They're  a  pack  of  cowards,"  was  Don's  mental 
comment.  "  Such  fellows  always  are,  and  I  ought 
to  have  known  better  than  to  take  up  with  them. 
My  last  act  in  this  school  will  be  to  show  them 
and  everybody  else  that  I  am  just  as  willing  to 
pay  the  fiddler  as  I  am  to  dance." 

At  last  the  sergeant  of  the  fourth  company 
began,  and  near  the  top  of  his  list  was  the  name — 
"Donald  Gordon." 

There  was  no  response  to  it ;  but  to  the  intense 
amazement  of  everybody  present,  and  the  almost 
overwhelming  consternation  of  some,  Don  stepped 
quickly  and  firmly  to  the  front.  No  one  outside 
the  "set"  would  have  thought  of  picking  him 
out  as  a  guard-runner.  The  sergeant  hesitated 
and  stammered  over  the  next  name,  and  there 
was  a  perceptible  nutter  among  all  except  the 
first-class  boys.  They  showed  their  three  years' 
drill  and  discipline  by  standing  as  stiff  as  so  many 
posts  and  holding  their  eyes  straight  to  the  front ; 
but  they  could  not  control  their  countenances,  and 


178  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

surprise  and  sorrow  were  depicted  upon  every  one 
of  them.  When  the  roll-call  was  ended  the 
sergeants  went  back  to  their  places,  and  Don  was 
left  standing  alone.  He  had  passed  through  one 
ordeal,  and  now  came  another. 

"Gordon,"  said  the  superintendent,  "I  am 
glad  to  see  that  you  have  too  much  manhood  to 
take  refuge  behind  a  lie.  I  should  have  been 
very  much  surprised  and  grieved  if  you  had 
showed  me  that  I  had  formed  a  wrong  opinion 
of  you." 

These  words  made  some  of  the  guilty  ones  in 
the  third  class  open  their  eyes.  Duncan's  face 
grew  whiter  than  ever,  while  Tom  Fisher  said 
to  himself: 

"I  really  believe  the  old  fellow  knows  right 
where  to  look  to  find  every  boy  who  was  outside 
the  building  last  night  after  taps.  If  I  had  had 
the  faintest  suspicion  that  Don  intended  to  con- 
fess, I  should  have  been  ahead  of  him.  He'll 
get  off  easy  by  giving  the  names  of  the  rest  of  us, 
and  Duncan  and  I  and  a  few  others,  who  kicked 
up  such 'a  row  last  term,  will  be  sent  do\vn." 

"You  had  charge  of  the  third  floor  between 
the  hours  of  eight  and  twelve  last  evening," 


BREAKING   UP   THE    "SET."  179 

continued  the  superintendent,  addressing  himself 
to  Don. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 

"  And  while  you  were  on  duty  several  boys, 
who  you  knew  intended  to  run  the  guard,  left 
their  dormitories,  and  you  permitted  them  to 
pass  out  of  the  building  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Don,  again. 

"  Grive  me  the  names  of  those  boys,"  said  the 
superintendent,  nodding  to  the  adjutant,  who 
pulled  out  his  note-book  and  pencil ;  but  he 
did  not  use  them — at  least  just  then.  While 
he  held  his  pencil  in  the  air  and  looked  at 
Don,  and  the  culprits  were  trembling  with  ap- 
prehension, and  the  others  were  listening  with 
all  their  ears  to  catch  the  first  name  that  fell 
from  Don's  lips,  the  answer  came  clear  and 
distinct : 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  insist  upon  that,  sir, 
for  it  is  something  I  do  not  like  to  do." 

The  superintendent  stared,  the  teachers  looked 
astonished,  and  another  nutter  of  excitement  ran 
along  the  line.  This  time  it  did  not  even  miss 
the  first-class  boys,  some  of  whom  so  far  forgot 
themselves  as  to  turn  their  heads  and  look  at 


180  DON   GOKDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

the  boy  who  dared  stand  in  the  presence  of  the 
head  of  the  school  and  say  that  he  did  not 
like  to  obey  an  order  that  had  been  given 
him  point-blank.  Such  a  thing  had  never 
happened  before  in  the  Bridgeport  academy. 
Don's  companions  in  guilt  began  to  breathe 
easier. 

"  If  he  will  only  stick  to  that  I  am  all  right ; 
but  Tie  will  have  to  go  down/'  soliloquized 
Clarence  Duncan,  whose  every  thought  was  a 
selfish  one,  and  who  did  not  care  the  snap  of  his 
ringer  what  became  of  Don  or  anybody  else,  so 
long  as  he  escaped  punishment  himself. 

"  That  bangs  me,"  thought  Tom  Fisher,  who 
was  not  altogether  bad  at  heart,  even  though  he 
did  have  faults  almost  without  number.  He 
knew  a  brave  boy  when  he  saw  one,  and  Don's 
conduct  excited  his  unbounded  admiration. 
"  He's  the  pluckiest  fellow  I  ever  saw,  and  he 
shall  not  be  sent  down  if  I  can  help  it." 

"  Do  you  refuse  to  give  me  the  names  of  those 
boys  ?  "  asked  the  superintendent,  as  soon  as  he 
had  somewhat  recovered  from  his  surprise. 

"I  would  rather  not,  sir,"  replied  Don.  He 
did  not  like  to  use  so  strong  a  word  as  "  refuse/' 


BREAKING   UP   THE   -'SET."  181 

but  still  his  answer  was  given  in  a  tone  which 
showed  that  he  had  no  intention  of  wavering. 

"  You  know  the  alternative  ?  "  said  the  super- 
intendent, quietly  but  firmly. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  And  you  are  willing  to  submit  to  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  But  I  am  not  willing  that  he  should,  sir," 
exclaimed  Tom  Fisher,  stepping  three  paces  to 
the  front  and  raising  his  hand  to  his  cap.  "  If 
he  won't  tell  who  the  guard-runners  are,  I  will." 

"  Attention  !  "  shouted  the  superintendent, 
who  was  utterly  confounded  by  this  breach  of 
discipline  ;  but  Tom,  having  made  a  resolution, 
was  determined  to  stick  to  it,  regardless  of  the 
consequences. 

"  No  boy  in  this  academy  shall  ever  again  suffer 
for  my  misdeeds  if  I  can  help  it,"  said  he,  speak- 
ing as  rapidly  as  he  could  in  order  that  he  might 
get  everything  off  his  mind  before  he  was  inter- 
rupted. "  I  was  one  of  the  guard-runners,  and  if 
the  others  have  the  least  particle  of  pluck  in 
them " 

"Attention!"  shouted  the  superintendent 
again.  "  Captain  Morgan  "  he  added,  addressing 


182          DON  GOKDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

the  commander  of  the  first"  company,  "  detail  a 
corporal's  guard  to  take  private  Fisher  to  his 
room  under  arrest." 

"I  don't  care,"  thought  Tom,  as  he  was 
marched  off  by  the  guard  that  was  quickly 
detailed  to  take  charge  of  him.  "  I  did  my  best 
to  save  Don,  and  I  shall  go  down  with  something 
like  a  clear  conscience.  But  I  really  wish  the 
superintendent  would  give  me  another  chance.  I 
would  make  an  honest  and  earnest  effort  to  do 
better." 

This  was  the  unexpected  act  on  the  part  of 
Tom  Fisher  to  which  we  referred  a  short  time 
ago,  and  which,  taken  in  connection  with  Don's 
bold  acknowledgment  of  his  guilt,  did  more  to 
break  up  guard-running  at  that  academy  than  all 
the  locks  and  bolts  that  could  have  been  put 
upon  the  doors.  These  two  incidents  upset 
everybody,  teachers  included  ;  but  the  latter  were 
quick  to  see  how  to  take  advantage  of  it. 

"  Sergeant  Clayton,  call  the  roll  of  your  com- 
pany again,"  said  the  superintendent. 

The  sergeant  obeyed,  and  this  time  all  the 
guard-runners  stepped  to  the  front  with  the 
exception  of  Clarence  Duncan.  He  had  good 


BREAKING   UP   THE    "SET."  183 

reasons  for  fearing  exposur.e,  as  we  shall  presently 
see,  and  believing  that  his  companions  would  fol- 
low Don  Gordon's  example  and  refuse  to  bear 
witness  against  him,  he  was  resolved  to  keep  up  a 
bold  front,  and  to  deny  his  guilt  to  the  very  last. 

"  It  is  a  pity  that  some  of  these  weak-kneed 
fellows  didn't  come  to  the  same  determination," 
said  he  to  himself.  "  There  was  not  a  scrap  of 
evidence  against  any  of  us,  and  if  they  had  only 
stood  by  me " 

"  Sergeant,  call  private  Duncan's  name  again," 
said  the  superintendent,  breaking  in  upon  his 
soliloquy. 

"  Clarence  Duncan,"  said  the  sergeant. 

"  Here,"  came  the  response. 

"  Clarence  Duncan  !"  repeated  Clayton. 

"Here!"  replied  the  culprit ;  adding  to  him- 
self, "  You  can't  make  me  own  up,  and  you  might 
as  well  give  up  trying." 

"  Private  Duncan,  three  paces  to  the  front," 
commanded  the  superintendent.  "  Break  ranks." 

Duncan  was  taken  to  his  room  under  guard, 
and  when  he  got  there  he  found  an  armed  sentry 
pacing  back  and  forth  in  front  of  the  door.  Tom 
Fisher  was  seated  at  the  table  with  an  open  book 


184       DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

before  him,  but  he  was  not  studying.  He  was 
thinking  over  the  incidents  that  had  just 
transpired. 

"  Well,  Clarence,"  said  he,  cheerfully,  "  we're 
in  for  it." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Clarence,  angrily.  "  Thanks  to 
you  and  Don  Gordon,  we  are  in  for  it.  I  never 
knew  before  that  you  were  such  a  coward.  What 
made  you  side  with  Gordon  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  had  two  reasons  for  it :  In  the  first 
place,  he  showed  himself  to  be  a  good  fellow,  and 
as  true  as  steel ;  and  I  couldn't  stand  by  and  see 
him  punished.  If  I  hadn't  spoken  up,  he  would 
have  been  sent  down  for  refusing  to  give  our 
names." 

"That's  just  what  ought  to  have  been  done 
with  him,"  said  Clarence. 

"As  the  case  now  stands,"  continued  Tom, 
"  he  will,  most  likely,  be  let  off  easy,  this  being 
the  first  time  that  anything  serious  has  been 
charged  against  him." 

"  And  what  is  to  become  of  you  and  me  ?  " 

"  You  know  what  they  told  us  the  last  time  we 
were  court-martialed,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  I    should    think  I   ought,   for   I   have   been 


BREAKING   UP   THE   "SET."  185 

reminded  of  it  often  enough.  Don't  you  know 
that  by  befriending  Don  you  have  got  me  into  a 
terrible  scrape  ?  Don't  you  remember  that  my 
father  told  me  that  he  would  put  me  on  board  the 
school-ship  if  I  were  sent  down  ?  " 

It  would  have  been  strange  if  Tom  had  for- 
gotten it,  for  Duncan  had  such  a  horror  of  that 
same  school-ship  that  he  talked  about  it  every 
day.  He  had  seen  and  conversed  with  boys  who 
had  been  sent  there  because  they  would  not 
behave  themselves  at  home,  and  he  had  noticed 
that  they  all  agreed  on  these  two  points — that  the 
officers  were  very  stern  and  severe,  and  that  the 
life  of  a  hod-carrier  was  easier  and  more  respecta- 
ble than  that  of  a  foremast  hand.  Clarence  had 
a  deep-rooted  horror  of  the  sea  and  every  thing 
connected  with  it,  and  he  looked  forward  to  five 
years  on  the  school-ship  with  feelings  very  near 
akin  to  those  with  which  he  would  have  looked 
forward  to  a  term  in  the  penitentiary. 

"  You  went  back  on  me,  an  old-time  friend,  for 
the  sake  of  a  boy  you  never  saw  or  heard  of  until 
last  winter,"  continued  Clarence.  "  I  didn't  act  the 
craven,  I  tell  you.  I  stuck  it  out  as  long  as  I  could." 

"  Did  they  find  you  out  ?  "  asked  Tom. 


186  DON   GORDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  I  am  under  arrest,  the  same  as  you  are  ;  but 
they  can't  prove  anything  against  me." 

"Then  how  does  it  come  that  you  are  in 
arrest  ?  " 

'•  That's  just  what  beats  me.  They  called  the 
roll  of  our  company  again  after  you  were  sent  off 
under  guard,  and,  to  my  intense  disgust,  every  fel- 
low who  was  with  us  last  night  stepped  to  the 
front.  They  tried  to  bully  a  confession  out  of  me, 
but  I  didn't  leave  the  ranks  until  I  was  ordered  to 
do  so." 

"  That  brings  me  to  the  second  reason  I  had  for 
doing  as  I  did,"  said  Tom.  "  They've  got  evi- 
dence against  every  one  of  us." 

"I  don't  see  where  they  got  it." 

If  Clarence  had  taken  the  trouble  to  look  in 
the  mirror  he  would  have  seen  at  a  glance  where 
the  evidence  that  convicted  him  came  from.  He 
carried  it  in  his  face. 

We  need  not  dwell  upon  the  incidents  that 
happened  during  the  next  few  days,  for  they  have 
nothing  to  do  with  our  story,  and  no  one  except 
the  boys  who  attended  the  Bridgeport  academy  at 
this  particular  time  would  be  interested  in  them. 
It  will  be  enough  to  say  that  the  culprits  were 


BREAKING   UP   THE    "  SET."  187 

confined  to  their  rooms  and  given  ample  leisure  in 
which  to  think  over  their  folly  and  make  good 
resolutions  for  the  future.  The  repentant  ones 
devoted  the  most  of  their  time  to  their  books  ; 
but  there  were  some  among  them  who  did  nothing 
but  bemoan  their  hard  luck  and  rail  at  Don  Gor- 
don for  being  such  a  "  fluke." 

The  court-martial  came  off  in  due  time,  and 
Clarence  Duncan,  who  denied  his  guilt  to  the 
very  last,  and  even  denounced  the  others  for  bear- 
ing false  witness  against  him,  was  sent  down  ;  and 
it  was  not  long  before  reports  came  to  the  acad- 
emy that  he  had  been  placed  on  board  the  school- 
ship.  Tom  Fisher  was  given  a  new  lease  of  life. 
He  evidently  knew  just  what  he  was  doing  when 
he  took  sides  with  Don,  for  that  one  act  was  all 
that  saved  him  from  going  home  too.  Next  to 
Duncan  he  and  Don  received  the  heaviest  sen- 
tences, both  being  gated  for  two  months,  during 
which  time  they  were  required  to  walk  eight 
extras  with  packed  knapsacks  on  their  backs. 
The  others  were  punished  in  nearly  the  same  way, 
only  they  were  not  gated  for  so  long  a  period,  nor 
were  they  called  upon  to  perform  as  much  extra 
duty.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  no  one  suspected 


188  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

that  the  guard-runners  had  made  use  of  the  fire- 
escape.  All  the  blame  was  laid  upon  the  floor- 
guard,  who  suffered  accordingly. 

These  stirring  events,  as  we  said  before,  broke 
up  the  "set"  completely,  and  made  fast  friends 
of  Don  Gordon  and  Tom  Fisher,  who,  holding 
firmly  to  their  determination  to  do  better,  gradu- 
ally broke  off  their  intimate  relations  with  the 
lazy,  mischievous,  and  discontented  members  of 
their  classes,  and  began  to  have  more  to  do  with 
fellows  who  were  worth  knowing.  The  manly 
stand  they  had  taken  during  the  investigation  (it 
was  a  manly  act  on  Don's  part,  but  largely  pru- 
dential on  the  part  of  Tom  Fisher)  excited  the 
wonder  and  admiration  of  all  the  students,  and 
the  boys  in  the  upper  classes,  who  had  never  taken 
any  notice  of  them  except  to  return  their  salutes, 
now  sought  them  out  and  became  intimate  with 
them.  It  was  certainly  a  great  relief  to  Don  to 
associate  with  fellows  who  were  not  all  the  while 
grumbling  about  something  or  discussing  plans 
for  getting  by  the  guard.  One  day  he  was  sur- 
prised by  a  visit  from  Egan,  the  first  sergeant  of 
his  company,  who  entered  his  room  holding  an 
open  letter  in  his  hand. 


BREAKING   UP    THE    "  SET."  189 

"  Say,  Gordon,"  he  exclaimed,  taking  no  notice 
of  Don's  salute,  "  why  didn't  you  let  the  fellows 
know  that  your  father  used  to  go  to  this  school  ?  " 

"  Some  of  them  do  know  it,"  replied  Don. 

"  Well,  I  didn't  know  it  until  I  received  this 
letter,"  said  the  sergeant,  helping  himself  to  a 
chair  and  throwing  his  cap  on  Bert's  bed.  "I 
spoke  of  you  in  a  letter  I  wrote  home  a  short  time 
ago,  and  am  surprised  to  learn  that  your  father 
and  mine  used  to  be  room-mates  and  chums  when 
they  belonged  to  this  academy.  Let's  shake." 

Don  took  the  sergeant's  proffered  hand,  and 
this  was  the  beginning  of  another  friendship  that 
has  never  been  broken.  The  sergeant  was  just 
the  kind  of  associate  that  Don  needed.  He  was  a 
faithful  soldier,  a  close  student,  a  favorite  with 
both  teachers  and  scholars,  and  his  example  and 
influence  did  wonders  for  Don  Gordon.  It  is  true 
that  during  his  first  year  at  the  academy  he  had 
been  rather  restive  under  the  strict  discipline  to 
which  he  was  subjected.  He  had  even  run  the 
guard — if  he  hadn't  he  would  not  have  known  as 
much  as  he  did  about  Cony  Ryan's  pancakes  and 
maple  syrup — and  he  had  paid  for  his  fun  by 
walking  extras  and  being  gated  ;  but  that  was  all 


190  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

over  now,  and  he  was  one  of  the  last  boys  in  school 
who  would  have  been  suspected  of  any  violation 
of  the  rules. 

Egan  introduced  his  new  friend  to  the  fellows 
in  the  first  class,  and  first-class  fellows  Don  found 
them  to  be.  Some  of  them  were  fond  of  shooting 
and  fishing,  knew  a  good  dog  and  gun  when  they 
saw  them,  and  could  tell  hunting  stories  without 
number.  Others  among  them — and  they  were 
Southern  boys,  like  Don — thought  more  of  their 
horses  than  they  did  of  almost  anything  else. 
They  were  at  home  in  the  saddle,  and  delighted 
to  talk  of  the  fine  times  they  had  enjoyed  while 
riding  to  the  hounds.  Courtland  Hopkins,  who 
was  the  Falstaff  of  the  academy,  always  grew 
enthusiastic  when  the  subject  of  fox-hunting  was 
introduced. 

"  Ah  !  Gordon,"  he  said  one  day,  "  that  is  the 
sport  par  excellence.  Come  down  into  Maryland 
with  me  next  vacation,  and  I'll  show  you  some 
fun.  A  lot  of  the  fellows  have  been  promising  to 
go  for  a  long  time,  but  that's  all  it  has  amounted 
to." 

"  I'd  like  to  see  you  in  the  saddle,  Hop,"  said 
Egan,  taking  his  friend  by  the  arm  and  turning 


BREAKING   UP   THE   "SET."  191 

him  around  so  that  he  could  give  him  a  good 
looking  over.  "  You've  almost  too  much  avoir- 
dupois for  a  rider,  according  to  my  way  of  think- 
ing. In  other  words,  you're  a  great  deal  too 
fat," 

"Just  give  me  a  good  horse,  and  see  if  I 
can't  take  a  ten-rail  fence  as  cleverly  as  any- 
body," returned  Hopkins,  quickly.  "  I  am  good 
for  a  plate  of  soup  at  the  International  if  there 
is  a  colt  in  Bridgeport  that  can  throw  me." 

"  If  you  will  all  go  home  with  me,  I  will  give 
you  some  of  the  best  duck-shooting  you  ever 
saw,"  said  Don. 

"Yes;  but  that  would  require  a  scatter-gun, 
and  that  is  something  I  never  did  like,"  said 
Walter  Curtis.  "If  you  want  to  see  fun,  com- 
bined with  skill,  take  a  Thanksgiving  dinner 
with  me,  and  watch  the  members  of  our  club 
break  glass  balls  with  rifles." 

These  words  were  spoken  carelessly,  but  they 
were  not  forgotten.  If  they  had  been,  this  series 
of  books  would  never  have  been  written. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    STUDENTS    IN    CAMP. 

rPIME  flew  on,  the  school  term  drew  to  a  close, 
and  at  last  the  "day  of  all  days" — the  day 
to  which  all  the  students  in  the  Bridgeport 
Military  Academy  looked  forward  with  the  live- 
liest anticipations  of  pleasure — arrived.  Of  late 
there  had  been  a  perceptible  bustle  among  the 
boys  Those  of  their  number  who  had  hitherto 
thought  of  nothing  but  mischief,  and  whose 
highest  ambition  was  to  shirk  their  duty  in 
every  way  they  could,  began  to  show  some 
interest  in  the  daily  school  routine,  and  tried 
by  the  hardest  kind  of  study  and  strict  at- 
tention to  business,  to  make  up  for  the  time 
they  had  lost.  There  was  no  idleness,  and 
consequently  no  rules  were  broken,  and  there 
was  no  extra  duty  to  be  done.  There  was  less 
time  wasted  in  loitering  about  the  grounds,  the 
hours  of  recreation  being  devoted  to  the  dis- 
cussion of  various  plans  for  amusement,  and 


THE   STUDENTS   IN   CAMP.  193 

to  the  overhauling  of  fly-books  and  trolling- 
lines.  Their  studies  were  soon  to  be  thrown 
aside  for  a  whole  month  ;  their  pleasant  dormi- 
tories were  to  be  exchanged  for  shelter- tents  ; 
fly-rods,  oars,  and  geologists'  hammers  were  to 
take  the  place  of  the  pens,  pencils,  and  mathe- 
matical instruments  that  had  so  long  been  their 
daily  companions  ;  and  their  tiresome  drills  were 
to  give  way  to  moonlight  boat-rides  and  to — 
well,  to  some  other  sports  that  would  not  have 
been  permitted  while  the  students  were  living 
at  the  academy,  but  which  were  winked  at 
during  the  time  they  were  in  camp.  What 
these  sports  were  shall  be  told  presently. 

As  the  eventful  day  drew  near,  the  excitement 
and  impatience,  and,  we  may  add,  anxiety,  of 
the  students  increased  to  such  a  degree  that 
it  was  all  they  could  do  to  study.  The  rea- 
son for  this  state  of  affairs  was  found  in  the 
fact  that  it  had  somehow  leaked  out — through 
what  source  no  one  seemed  able  to  tell — that 
an  event  of  unusual  interest  was  to  take  place 
during  this  particular  encampment ;  something 
that  had  never  occurred  before,  and  might  never 
occur  again.  Some  of  the  first-class  boys  who. 
9 


194  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

were  in  the  secret,  had  said  just  enough  to  put 
their  companions  on  nettles,  but  not  enough 
to  give  them  even  the  faintest  idea  of  what 
they  might  expect. 

"I  know  that  boat-riding,  and  trolling  for 
pickerel,  and  spearing  eels  by  torch-light,  are  fine 
sports,"  Egan  said  to  Don,  one  day,  "  and  they 
are  exciting,  too,  when  you  have  no  better  way 
of  passing  the  time ;  but  you  very  soon  for- 
get all  about  the  pleasure  you  have  in  that  way, 
don't  you  ?  Well,  there's  something  going  to 
happen  very  shortly  that  you'll  not  forget  so 
easily,  I  tell  you.  You  will  remember  it  as  long 
as  you  live." 

"  Now,  sergeant,  what  is  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Don, 
after  Egan  had  talked  to  him  a  few  times  in  this 
way.  "  Can't  you  give  me  a  hint  ?  " 

"  No.     Couldn't  possibly  think  of  it." 

"  Well,  then,  if  you  were  told  to  keep  it  to 
yourself,  why  don't  you  do  it  ?  What's  the  use 
of  aggravating  a  fellow  in  this  way  ?  " 

"  I  assure  you,  my  dear  boy,  that  no  aggrava- 
tion is  intended,"  replied  Egan,  in  his  blandest 
tones.  "  I  only  meant  to  prepare  you  for  some- 
thing you  never  dreamed  of.  If  your  eyes  don't 


THE    STUDENTS   IN   CAMP.  195 

open  and  your  hair  stand  on  end,  I — whew  !  I 
can't  think  of  it  without  a  little  thrill  of  excite- 
ment." 

Meanwhile  the  question  as  to  where  and  how 
the  coming  vacation  should  be  spent,  had  been 
repeatedly  referred  to  and  talked  over  by  Don  and 
his  three  friends  in  the  first  class — Egan,  Hop- 
kins and  Curtis.*  The  latter  was  anxious  to  go 
home  and  join  his  friends  in  the  club-shoot  that 
always  came  off  on  Thanksgiving  day  ;  Hopkins 
wanted  Don  to  see  him  add  another  "  brush  "  to 
the  numerous  trophies  of  the  chase  that  adorned 
the  walls  of  his  room  ;  and  Don  held  out  strongly 
in  favor  of  his  own  shooting-grounds  about  Dia- 
mond Lake.  The  matter  was  finally  settled  by 
the  assistance  of  General  Gordon,  who  sent  each 
of  the  boys  a  cordial  invitation  to  spend  at  least 
a  small  portion  of  their  next  vacation  at  Don's 
shooting-box,  and  made  sure  of  its  acceptance 
by  communicating  with  the  fathers  of  these 
students,  all  of  whom  he  had  known  in  the 
days  of  his  boyhood.  This  point  having  been 
decided  to  his  entire  satisfaction,  Don  could 
have  settled  down  to  good  hard  work,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  fact  that  he  was  continually 


196  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

looking  forward  to  that  "unusual  and  interest- 
ing event "  that  was  to  transpire  when  the  boys 
went  into  camp.  His  curiosity  had  been  aroused 
to  the  highest  pitch,  and  he  could  scarcely  think 
about  anything  else. 

The  sun  rose  clear  and  cloudless  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  first  day  of  August,  and  before  the 
echoes  awakened  by  the  roar  df  the  field-piece 
had  fairly  died  away,  the  boys  were  crowding 
into  the  drill-room.  Breakfast  was  served  im- 
mediately after  roll-call,  and  two  hours  later 
three  hundred  students,  led  by  the  band  and 
marching  with  the  precision  of  veteran  soldiers, 
moved  through  the  wide  gateway,  and  down  the 
principal  street  of  the  village  toward  their  camp- 
ing-ground. Everybody  turned  out  to  see  them. 
Flags  and  handkerchiefs  were  waved  all  along 
their  line  of  march,  flowers  were  showered  into 
their  ranks,  and  when,  in  obedience  to  the  com- 
mand :  "  Platoons,  right  front  into  line,  double 
time,  march  ! "  they  broke  from  column  of  fours 
into  column  of  platoons,  the  cheers  that  greeted 
their  prompt  and  soldier-like  execution  of  the 
manoeuvre,  which  is  always  an  awkward  one 
unless  it  is  well  done,  were  always  deafening. 


THE   STUDENTS   IN   CAMP.  197 

The  camp  was  always  pitched  upon  a  little  rise 
of  ground  about  three  miles  from  the  village. 
In  front  of  it  was  the  river,  on  its  left  arose  a 
range  of  hills  which  were  almost  high  enough  to 
be  called  mountains,  and  among  these  hills  were 
located  the  streams  and  ponds  in  which  the 
speckled  trout,  pickerel,  sunfish  and  bass  abounded. 
Here  too,  were  found  the  thieving  raccoons  that 
ravaged  the  farmers'  corn-fields,  the  hawks  that 
caught  their  chickens,  and  the  black  and  gray 
squirrels  which  aiforded  the  boys  many  an  excit- 
ing hunt  and  excellent  dinner.  Between  these 
hills  and  the  camp  ran  a  wide  and  deep  creek, 
whose  rapid  current  often  baffled  the  skill  of  the 
young  engineers  who  tried  to  throw  a  pontoon- 
bridge  across  it. 

On  reaching  the  camping  ground  the  arms  were 
stacked,  and  the  tents,  which  had  already  arrived, 
were  distributed  among  the  different  companies 
and  pitched  at  the  tap  of  the  drum.  Then 
working-parties  were  detailed  to  grade  and  ditch 
the  streets,  provide  fire-wood  for  the  kitchens  and 
to  perform  various  other  duties,  and  when  they 
were  relieved  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the 
little  camp  presented  a  scene  of  neatness  and 


198  DON   GORDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX. 

order  with  which  the  most  exacting  officer  could 
not  have  found  a  word  of  fault. 

There  were  several  orders  read  that  night  on 
dress-parade,  and  among  them  was  one  that 
expressly  prohibited  "  foraging."  Don  could  not 
see  the  necessity  for  such  an  order,  so  he  waited 
for  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  Egan  about  it. 

"  It  means,"  said  the  latter,  in  response  to 
Don's  inquiries,  "  that  we  mustn't  steal  anything 
from  the  farmers  hereabouts." 

"  So  I  supposed.  But  who  is  there  among  us 
who  would  be  mean  enough  to  do  such  a  thing  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  about  it's  being  mean,"  replied 
the  sergeant,  in  a  tone  of  voice  that  made  Don 
open  his  eyes.  "We  want  something  good  to 
eat,  don't  we  ?  " 

"  Of  course  we  do  ;  hut  why  can't  we  buy  what 
we  want?  We've  all  got  a  little  pocket-money." 

"  That's  very  likely ;  but  it  is  cheaper  to 
forage." 

"  But  suppose  you  are  caught  at  it  ?  " 

"  That's  your  lookout.  You  must  be  sharp 
enough  to  get  away  with  your  plunder  after  you 
have  secured  it." 

"I'll  not  try  it,"  said  Don,  decidedly.     "I've 


THE   STUDENTS  IN   CAMP.  199 

had  trouble  enough  this  term,  and  I  am  not  going 
to  have  any  more  black  marks  placed  against  my 
name  if  I  can  help  it.  Besides,  I  don't  see  what 
there  is  to  steal." 

"0,  there  are  lots  of  things.  The  farmers 
hardly  ever  lock  their  spring-houses,  and  it's  the 
easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  slip  into  one  of  them 
and  take  a  good  swig  out  of  a  pan  of  milk  that  has 
cream  on  it  an  inch  thick.  Ah ! "  said  the 
sergeant,  smacking  his  lips.  "  That's  the  way 
Hop  got  himself  into  a  snarl  last  camp/' 

"  Not  Court  Hopkins  !  "  exclaimed  Don. 

"  Yes,  Courtland  Hopkins.  He  and  a  party  of 
fellows  went  down  to  Hudson's  one  day  after  some 
eggs  and  butter — by  the  way,  that  same  farmer 
Hudson  always  has  a  splendid  melon  patch,  and 
the  melons  will  begin  to  ripen  pretty  soon — and 
while  some  of  the  boys  were  occupying  the  atten- 
tion of  the  farmer's  wife,  Hop  slipped  around  to  the 
spring-house,  and  there  he  found  a  five-gallon  jar 
full  of  fresh  buttermilk.  That  was  too  much  for 
Hop,  who  can  make  way  with  more  buttermilk 
than  any  boy  /  ever  saw.  He  grabbed  the  jar  and 
made  off  with  it ;  but  just  as  he  was  leaving  the 
spring-house,  Hudson,  who  was  at  work  in  a  field 


200       DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

close  by,  caught  sight  of  him  and  started  in  pur- 
suit. Hop  heard  him  coming,  and  knowing  that 
he  could  not  escape  with  his  burden,  he  put  it 
down,  never  spilling  a  drop  of  the  milk,  and  took 
to  his  heels.  Fat  as  he  is,  he  led  Hudson  a  good 
long  chase,  but  he  was  collared  at  last  and  taken 
to  camp." 

Don  was  utterly  amazed.  Here  was  Hopkins, 
who  was  looked  upon  by  all  his  companions  as  a 
model  of  perfection,  and  yet  he  had  been  caught 
in  the  act  of  stealing ;  and  here  was  Egan, 
another  good  scholar  and  a  non-commissioned 
officer  besides,  who  told  the  story  of  his  friend's 
guilt  as  though  it  were  something  well  worth 
relating.  Don  could  not  understand  it. 

"What  did  they  do  with  him  ?"  he  asked,  as 
soon  as  he  had  somewhat  recovered  from  his 
surprise. 

"  Well,  the  superintendent  thought  that  that 
was  carrying  matters  a  little  too  far,  and  so  he 
refused  Hop  a  pass  for  a  week,"  was  the  sergeant's 
reply.  "  But  he  didn't  gain  any  black  marks  by 
it." 

"  How  was  that  ?  "  inquired  Don. 

"  Why,  you  see,  your  record  for  the  term  is  all 


THE   STUDENTS   IN   CAMP.  201 

made  up,  and  the  books  are  closed ;  and  any 
mischief  you  may  do  here  in  camp  will  not  count 
against  you  in  the  examination.  We  come  out 
here  to  have  fun,  and  the  teachers  are  willing  we 
•should  have  it,  so  long  as  we  keep  within  hounds. 
The  farmers  around  here  make  lots  of  money  out 
of  us  every  year,  and  if  we  want  to  go  into  their 
orchards  and  melon-patches  and  help  ourselves  to 
what  we  find  there,  we  are  welcome  to  do  it,  if 
we  go  about  it  openly  and  above  board  ;  but  if 
we  try  to  forage  on  them,  they  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  the  matter  as  fully  as  we  do,  and  make 
every  effort  to  capture  us.  If  they  succeed,  they 
march  us  to  camp,  and  all  the  boys  laugh  at  us, 
and  we  have  to  fork  over  money  enough  to  pay  for 
the  articles  we  took,  whatever  they  are.  But 
after  all  one  don't  lose  anything  by  it,  for  very 
likely  that  same  farmer  will  meet  you  the  next 
day  and  give  you  a  peck  of  peaches,  or  an  armful 
of  green-corn  or  a  water-melon  as  big  as  you  can 
carry." 

Don  began  to  understand  the  matter  now,  and 
to  see  why  it  was  that  the  students  looked  for- 
ward to  their  month  in  camp  with  so  much  eager- 
ness and  impatience.  Here  were  opportunities 


202  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

for  him  to  work  off  a  little  of  his  superabundant 
energy  without  violating  any  rules  or  doing  harm 
to  anybody,  and  those  who  are  acquainted  with 
him  will  know  that  he  was  not  long  in  making 
up  his  mind  to  improve  them. 

"  But  there  is  one  thing  we  have  to  keep  con- 
stantly before  us,"  continued  the  sergeant,  who 
did  not  fail  to  notice  and  to  rightly  interpret  the 
look  he  saw  in  Don's  eye.  "  The  teachers  do  not 
object  to  innocent  fun,  but  anything  that  savors 
of  meanness  won't  go  down.  If  a  boy  oversteps 
the  mark,  he  goes  buck  to  the  academy  and  stays 
there  under  guard.  Duncan  went  back  last  camp 
for  trying  to  rob  a  hen-roost.  The  fanner  who 
owned  the  fowls  laughed  and  said  it  was  all  right, 
but  the  teachers  didn't  think  so.  I  never  foraged 
so  much  as  an  ear  of  corn ;  but  I  am  a  number 
one  deserter." 

"  Deserter  ! "  echoed  Don,  growing  more  and 
more  interested. 

"  Yes.  You  see,  we  want  to  do  things  here  just 
as  they  are  done  in  a  regular  camp,  and  there  is 
much  more  fun  in  working  up  a  case  against  a  real 
culprit,  who  will  try  by  every  means  in  his  power 
to  hide  his  guilt,  than  there  is  in  trumping  up  a 


THE   STUDENTS   IN    CAMP.  203 

charge  against  some  innocent  boy.  I  have  de- 
serted every  time  I  have  been  in  camp." 

"  What  did  they  do  with  you  ?  " 

"Nothing,  for  I  got  back  before  I  was  caught. 
If  I  had  been  captured  by  any  of  the  scouting 
parties  that  were  sent  out  in  pursuit  of  me,  I 
should  have  been  court-martialed,  and  ordered  to 
the  guard-tent  to  await  sentence.  That's  the 
way  they  did  with  Hop,  who  was  sentenced  to  be 
shot.  But  then  he  deserted  when  the  camp  was 
supposed  to  be  surrounded  by  the  enemy.  Hop 
always  was  unlucky.  He  can't  do  any  mischief 
without  being  caught  at  it." 

"  How  did  they  carry  out  the  sentence  ?  "  asked 
Don. 

"  They  didn't  carry  it  out.  They  simply  put 
him  in  the  guard-tent,  and  about  midnight  the 
officer  of  the  day  came  along  and  let  him  out ; 
and  that  was  the  last  of  it.  When  the  members 
of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  hold  their 
encampments,  and  capture  a  deserter  or  a  spy, 
they  go  through  all  the  forms — seating  the  pris- 
oner blindfolded  on  a  coffin  and  shooting  at  him 
with  blank  cartridges.  But  we  don't  believe  in 
that.  It  is  almost  too  much  like  the  reality.  By 


204  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

the  way,  Gordon,  that  great  European  seven- 
elephant  railroad  show  is  advertised  to  pitch  its 
tent  in  Bridgeport  very  shortly,  and  I  should 
really  like  to  see  the  man  who  turns  a  double 
somerset  over  three  elephants  and  four  camels ; 
wouldn't  you  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  would,  and  I'll  go  if  you  will. 
Shall  we  ask  for  a  pass  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  because  we  don't  intend  to 
come  back  until  we  get  ready.  The  boys  all 
want  to  get  out  of  the  lines  for  exercise,  and 
nothing  would  suit  them  better  than  tramping 
about  the  country  in  search  of  us." 

Just  then  the  officer  of  the  day  appeared  at 
the  door  of  his  tent  and  beckoned  to  the  sergeant, 
who  hurried  away,  leaving  Don  to  himself.  The 
latter  wished  most  heartily  that  that  great  Euro- 
pean seven-elephant  railroad  show  had  been  billed 
to  appear  at  Bridgeport  that  very  night,  for  he 
was  in  just  the  right  humor  for  an  adventure. 
Like  Egan,  he  had  no  taste  for  foraging.  It  is 
true  that  he  had  joined  in  raids  upon  melon- 
patches  when  they  were  closely  guarded,  and  when 
he  knew  that  speedy  punishment  would  be  visited 
upon  him  if  he  were  discovered  and  captured,  and 


THE   STUDENTS   IN   CAMP.  205 

he  might,  without  a  great  deal  of  urging,  have 
been  induced  to  do  the  same  thing  over  again, 
if  there  were  any  risk  to  be  run  ;  but  the  thought 
of  plundering  a  good-natured  farmer  who  Avould 
freely  have  given  him  all  the  melons  he  wanted, 
was  not  to  be  entertained  for  a  moment.  Deser- 
tion, as  proposed  by  Egan,  was,  according  to 
Don's  way  of  thinking,  a  more  high-toned  pro- 
ceeding. Creeping  unobserved  past  the  sentries  ; 
visiting  an  entertainment  that  would  doubtless  be 
witnessed  by  a  majority  of  the  teachers,  and  fifty 
or  perhaps  a  hundred  of  their  school-fellows,  all 
of  whom  would  be  glad  to  report  them  "just  for 
the  fun  of  the  thing  ; "  roaming  about  the  coun- 
try wherever  their  fancy  led  them  ;  dodging  the 
scouting  parties  that  were  sent  in  pursuit,  and  at 
last,  when  weary  of  their  freedom,  making  their 
way  back  to  camp  and  into  their  tents  without 
being  caught — there  was  something  interesting 
and  exciting  in  all  this,  and  the  longer  Don 
thought  of  it  the  more  he  wished  that  the  show 
would  hasten  its  coming. 

During  the  first  two  weeks  the  students  were 
kept  at  work  at  something  nearly  all  the  time, 
and  there  were  but  few  passes  granted.  Don  and 


206  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

Egan  were  among  those  who  were  lucky  enough  to 
get  out  of  the  Iint3  for  an  afternoon,  and  before 
they  came  back  they  had  made  arrangements  for 
procuring  citizen's  clothes  in  which  to  visit  the 
show  when  it  arrived.  After  that  Don  became 
more  impatient  and  uneasy  than  ever,  and  pro- 
posed to  his  friend  Egan  that  they  should  desert 
at  once,  and  stay  out  until  the  show  left  town. 

"  Oh,  that  would  never  do,"  was  the  sergeant's 
reply.  "  We  want  to  absent  ourselves  only  on 
our  'off'  days — that  is,  on  days  when  there  is  no 
work  to  be  done  in  surveying,  or  in  artillery  and 
rifle-practice.  You  know  I  am  to  complete  the 
course  this  year,  and  as  I  want  to  pass  a  good 
examination,  I  must  be  on  hand  to  receive  all  the 
practical  instruction  I  can.  I  wouldn't  like  to 
miss  that." 

"  But  we  don't  seem  to  have  any  'off'  days," 
answered  Don.  "  We  are  kept  busy  all  the  time. 
What's  the  use  of  surrounding  the  camp  with 
these  rifle-pits  ?  " 

"  There  are  two  reasons  for  it.  In  the  first 
place,  the  enemy  may  be  hovering  around  watch- 
ing for  a  chance  to  make  an  attack  upon  us." 

Don  laughed  outright. 


THE    STUDENTS   IN    CAMP.  207 

"  And  in  the  next  place,  you  want  to  learn  just 
how  to  go  to  work  to  fortify  a  camp  in  case  you 
should  ever  have  command  of  one." 

"  Which  is  not  at  all  likely/'  interrupted  Don. 
"  Why  can't  the  engineers  stake  out  the  works  so 
that  we  could  see  the  shape  of  them,  and  stop  at 
that  ?  I  didn't  come  here  to  handle  picks  and 
shovels  for  so  many  hours  every  day,  and  I  don't 
see  any  sense  in  it." 

Almost  the  first  thing  the  superintendent  did 
after  the  students  were  fairly  settled  in  their  new 
quarters,  was  to  put  the  engineers  at  work  laying 
out  a  very  elaborate  system  of  fortifications  with 
which  the  entire  camp  was  surrounded.  The  boys 
would  have  made  no  complaint  if  he  had  been 
satisfied  with  that ;  but  he  wasn't.  When  the 
fortifications  had  been  laid  out,  he  detailed 
working-parties  to  build  them,  just  as  he  would 
have  done  if  the  camp  had  been  located  in  an 
enemy's  country.  Such  a  thing  had  never  been 
done  before,  and  Don  Gordon  was  not  the  only 
one  who  could  not  see  any  sense  in  it.  At  first 
the  boys  laughed  at  their  sergeants  and  corporals, 
who  urged  them  to  greater  exertions  with  their 
picks  and  shovels,  assuring  them  at  the  same 


208  DON   GORDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX. 

time  that  an  attack  might  be  expected  at  any 
moment,  and  finally  they  began  to  get  angry  with 
them  ;  but  the  attack  was  made  all  the  same. 

But  these  days  of  toil  were  ended  at  last, 
and  when  the  old  soldiers  who  lived  in  Bridge- 
port came  out  and  inspected  the  works,  and  de- 
clared with  one  voice  that,  in  everything  except 
extent,  they  were  equal  to  any  with  which  the 
Confederates  had  surrounded  Vicksburg  and 
Richmond,  the  boys  felt  that  they  were  in  some 
measure  repaid  for  their  labor.  They  made  the 
most  of  the  days  of  recreation  that  followed. 
Passes  were  freely  granted,  and  every  boy  who 
went  outside  the  lines  made  it  a  point  to  bring 
back  something  for  his  mess- table. 

One  day,  while  Don  was  lounging  in  his  tent, 
Egan  appeared  at  the  door  and  beckoned  him  to 
come  out.  In  one  hand  he  carried  a  huge  yel- 
low poster,  which  he  passed  over  to  Don,  with 
the  request  that  the  latter  would  read  it  at  his 
leisure,  and  at  the  same  time  he  held  up  the 
forefinger  of  the  other  hand  as  if  he  were 
listening  to  something.  Don  listened  also,  and 
presently  the  breeze  bore  to  his  ear  the  enliven- 
ing strains  of  martial  music. 


THE   STUDENTS   IN   CAMP.  209 

"  They've  come/'  said  Egan,  "  and  they  are  now 
making  their  street  parade.  Are  you  ready  ?  " 

"I  am/'  answered  Don. 

"  Well,  say  one  o'clock,  then.  I  shall  be  busy 
with  my  reports  until " 

"  Why,  man  alive,"  interrupted  Don,  "  are  we 
going  to  run  the  guard  in  broad  daylight  ?  " 

"  How  in  the  world  are  we  going  to  help  it  ?  " 
demanded  Egan,  in  reply 

"  We  ought  to  have  gone  out  last  night  when 
we  would  have  had  the  darkness  to  aid  us,"  said 
Don,  who  began  to  think  that  his  chances  for 
seeing  that  wonderful  leaper  were  very  slim  in- 
deed. 

"I  couldn't  have  gone  last  .night,  for  I  was 
busy ;  and,  as  I  told  you,  I  don't  want  to  be  out 
of  camp  when  my  class  is  under  instruction.  I 
shall  be  busy  until  about  one  o'clock ;  but  after 
my  work  is  done,  I  am  going  to  that  show.  Are 
you  going  with  me  ?  " 

Don  answered,  very  decidedly,  that  he  was. 

"I  don't  deny  that  we  shall  have  a  tight 
squeak  for  it,"  continued  the  sergeant,  pulling 
off  his  cap  and  scratching  his  head  in  deep 
perplexity.  "  You  see,  there  used  to  be  a  little 


210      DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

ridge  out  there  in  the  upper  end  of  the  camp, 
that  ran  close  by  the  side  of  post  No.  2.  It 
was  thickly  lined  with  bushes,  under  cover  of 
which  a  fellow  who  was  at  all  cautious  in  his 
movements,  could  creep  by  the  sentry  very  easily ; 
but  when  these  earth- works  were  built  that  ridge 
was  cut  away,  and  I  haven't  yet  been  able  to 
decide  how  we  are  going  to  get  out,  although  I 
have  reconnoitered  every  part  of  the  camp  more 
than  a  dozen  times." 

"Look  here,"  said  Don.  "Perhaps  one  of  the 
gentries  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  keep  his  back 
turned  when " 

"No,  he  couldn't,"  interrupted  Egan,  who 
knew  very  well  what  Don  was  about  to  say. 
"  There  isn't  a  boy  in  camp  who  wouldn't  report 
his  best  friend,  if  he  had  the  chance,  just  for 
the  sake  of  getting  a  joke  on  him." 

Just  then  Hopkins  and  Curtis  came  hurrying 
by.  Their  faces  wore  a  pleased  expression,  and 
each  held  in  his  hand  a  piece  of  paper  which  he 
flourished  exultantly  over  his  head. 

"  We're  going  to  see  the  elephants,  and  the 
lions,  and  tigers,  and  all  the  other  things,"  said 
Curtis.  "  I  say,  boys,  if  you  want  passes  you'd 


THE   STUDENTS   IN   CAMP.  211 

better  not  be  standing  here.  The  fellows  are 
packed  around  the  superintendent's  marquee  as 
closely  as  sardines  in  a  box." 

Don  and  Egan  replied  that  they  had  concluded 
not  to  ask  for  passes  on  that  particular  day,  and 
Hopkins  and  his  friend  hurried  on  to  their  tents 
to  exchange  their  fatigue  suits  for  their  dress 
uniforms. 

"I  haven't  yet  been  able  to  decide  how  we 
are  going  to  get  out,"  repeated  the  sergeant, 
when  he  and  Don  were  left  alone,  "but  don't 
you  worry  about  that.  I'll  hit  upon  something 
before  the  time  for  action  arrives." 

"All  right,"  replied  Don.  "I'll  be  ready 
when  you  want  me." 

Egan  turned  toward  his  tent,  and  Don  went 
back  into  his.  He  spent  the  time  until  dinner  in 
reading  the  poster  the  sergeant  had  given  him, 
hundreds  of  which  had  that  morning  been  distri- 
buted about  the  camp  by  viflage  boys  who  were 
hired  for  that  purpose,  and  then  he  made  his 
toilet  and  waited  for  the  hands  on  his  watch  to 
travel  around  to  one  o'clock.  They  had  scarcely 
got  there  before  Sergeant  Egan  put  in  an  ap- 
pearance, carrying  in  his  hand  a  small  tin  pail 


212  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

He  seemed  somewhat  disconcerted  when  he  looked 
into  Don's  tent,  for  it  was  full  of  boys. 

"  Come  in,  sergeant/'  said  Bert,  pleasantly. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  inquired  Don.  "  To 
the  spring  after  some  fresh  water,  I  suppose. 
Hold  on  till  I  get  a  bucket,  and  I  will  go  with 
you." 

"  So  will  I,"  said  Bert. 

That  wouldn't  do  at  all.  The  sergeant 
looked  perplexed,  but  Don  was  equal  to  the 
emergency. 

"  Bert,"  said  he,  "  you  stay  here  till  I 
come  back,  and  I  will  have  something  to  tell 
you." 

The  confiding  Bert  was  good-natured  enough 
to  submit  without  any  argument,  and  Don,  hav- 
ing secured  a  bucket,  walked  off  with  the  sergeant. 
To  his  great  surprise  Egan  led  the  way  directly 
to  the  principal  gate,  and  the  sentry  who  was  on 
duty  there  allowed 'them  to  pass  without  a  word 
of  protest.  He  had  no  business  to  do  it,  and  if 
they  had  exhibited  the  least  timidity,  or  been  at 
all  uncertain  in  their  movements,  they  would 
have  been  halted  on  the  instant;  but,  as  it 
was,  their  audacity  carried  them  safely  through. 


THE   STUDENTS   IN   CAMP.  213 

If  Don  had  been  alone  he  would  have  been 
stopped  beyond  a  doubt ;  but  the  fact  that 
he  was  in  the  company  of  a  non-commissioned 
officer,  who,  however,  had  no  more  right  to  go 
outside  the  lines  than  a  private  had,  disarmed  the 
sentry  of  all  suspicion. 

The  two  deserters,  astonished  and  delighted  at 
the  ease  with  which  their  escape  had  been  effected, 
but  showing  no  outward  signs  of  exultation, 
walked  slowly  toward  the  spring,  which  bubbled 
up  among  the  rocks  about  fifty  yards  from  the 
gate,  their  every  movement  being  closely  watched 
by  the  sentry,  who  began  to  wonder  if  he  had  done 
just  right  in  permitting  them  to  pass.  They  made 
a  great  show  of  washing  out  their  pails,  stopping 
now  and  then  to  point  out  to  each  other  objects  of 
interest  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  creek,  all  of 
which  they  had  seen  a  hundred  times  before  ;  and 
at  last,  pretending  to  discover  something  at  a  little 
distance  that  they  considered  to  be  worthy  of  close 
examination,  they  set  down  their  buckets  and 
moved  down  the  bank  of  the  stream.  That 
movement  aroused  the  sentry,  who  now  began  to 
see  through  the  little  game  that  had  been  so 
neatly  played  upon  him. 


214  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  Halt ! "  he  shouted,  bringing  his  musket  to 
"arms  port." 

"Now  for  it,  Gordon,"  said  Egan,  in  an 
excited  whisper.  "  Leg  bail  is  all  that  will  save 
us." 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  the  sergeant 
pulled  his  fatigue  cap  down  over  his  ears  and 
darted  through  the  bushes  like  a  frightened  hare, 
Don  following  close  at  his  heels. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   DESERTERS   AT   THE   SHOW. 

"  TTALT  ! "  shouted  the  sentry.  "  Corporal  of 
1  the  guard  No.  1." 

"  This  is  a  regular  game  of  'follow  the  leader/ 
Gordon,"  said  Egan,  looking  back  over  his 
shoulder.  "  Are  you  good  at  that  ?  " 

"  I  used  to  be,"  answered  Don. 

"  They'll  be  after  us  in  less  than  no  time,"  con- 
tinued the  sergeant ;  "  and  as  there  are  some 
splendid  runners  among  the  fellows,  who  will  give 
us  more  than  we  want  to  do  if  they  come  up  with 
us,  our  game  must  be  to  keep  out  of  sight.  We 
can't  run  much  further  in  this  direction,  for  the 
river  will  stop  us  ;  so  that  the  best  thing  we  can 
do  is " 

Here  Egan  turned  like  a  flash  and  jumped  as 
far  as  he  could  toward  the  middle  of  the  creek. 
The  water  was  deep  enough  to  let  him  down  out 
of  sight,  but  he  arose  to  the  surface  almost  imme- 


216          DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

diately,  and  struck  out  for  the  opposite  shore. 
Don  was  astonished,  but  he  did  not  hesitate  an 
instant  to  "follow  his  leader."  Settling  his  cap 
firmly  on  his  head,  he  dove  from  the  bank,  and 
swimming  rapidly  under  the  water,  passed  Egan, 
much  to  that  young  gentleman's  surprise,  and 
came  up  a  long  way  ahead  of  him.  A  few  long, 
steady  strokes  carried  them  across  the  stream,  and 
while  they  were  climbing  out  by  the  aid  of  the 
bushes  that  hung  over  the  water,  voices  and  foot- 
steps sounded  from  the  bank  they  had  just  left, 
and  presently  ejaculations  indicative  of  the  greatest 
amazement  came  to  their  ears,  followed  by  ringing 
peals  of  laughter. 

"  Ha  !  ha  1  ha  !  I  say,  you,  Egan — ha  !  ha  ! 
ha  !  and  Gordon — 0,  dear,  0,  dear  !  This  will 
be  the  death  of  me,  I  just  know — ha  !  ha  ! 
Halt ! "  was  the  command  that  was  shouted  at 
them  from  the  other  side  of  the  creek  ;  and  look- 
ing over  their  shoulders  they  saw  on  the  bank  a 
party  of  their  pursuers,  some  of  whom  stamped 
about  and  nourished  their  arms  over  their  heads 
as  if  they  were  fighting  off  a  swarm  of  bumble- 
bees, while  the  others  rolled  on  the  ground  or 
stood  in  a  crouching  attitude,  holding  their  hands 


THE  DESERTERS  AT  THE  SHOW.      217 

firmly  against  their  sides.  They  were  all  con- 
vulsed with  laughter,  and  the  corporal  who  com- 
manded the  squad,  and  who  thought  he  had  never 
before  seen  so  ludicrous  a  sight  as  the  deserters 
presented  in  their  dripping  uniforms,  was  so  com- 
pletely overcome  with  merriment  that  he  could 
not  speak  again.  He  stood  there  on  the  bank 
shaking  his  head  and  slapping  his  knees  until 
Egan  and  his  companion  disappeared  in  the 
woods. 

"  Well,  Gordon,  what  do  you  think  of  the  sit- 
uation ? "  asked  the  sergeant,  throwing  himself 
flat  on  his  back  and  holding  his  feet  aloft  so  that 
the  water  could  run  out  of  his  boots. 

"  I'm  seeing  lots  of  fun,"  answered  Don,  wiping 
the  tears  from  his  eyes ;  for  he  had  laughed  as 
heartily  as  any  of  the  corporal's  men.  "  But  do 
you  think  we  can  get  through  ?  " 

"  We  must  get  through,"  replied  the  sergeant, 
earnestly.  "If  we  should  be  caught  and  taken 
back  after  what  we  have  done,  the  boys  never 
would  quit  joking  us.  That  corporal  is  a  good 
fellow  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of.  He's  as  sharp 
as  any  detective,  as  fleet  as  an  antelope,  and  if  he 
once  gets  a  grip  on  a  deserter's  collar,  he  don't  let 
10 


218  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

up.     He's  a  bad  one,  and  if  he  isn't  recalled,  he 
will  follow  us  all  over  the  country." 

"If  he  is  as  persevering  as  that,  what's  the 
reason  he  did  not  swim  the  creek  in  pursuit  of 
us  ?  "  asked  Don. 

"  He  wouldn't  have  made  anything  by  it," 
answered  the  sergeant,  "and,  besides,  he  wouldn't 
care  to  go  tramping  about  the  country  in  his  wet 
clothes.  He  will  follow  a  better  plan  than  that. 
He  will  cross  at  the  bridge  and  go  over  to  the 
main  road  and  try  to  ambush  us.  You  see  if  he 
don't." 

Having  wrung  a  little  of  the  water  out  of  their 
clothes,  Don  and  his  companion  continued  their 
flight,  threading  their  way  rapidly  but  cautiously 
through  the  thick  woods ;  but  before  they  had 
gone  two  hundred  yards,  the  sergeant,  who  was 
acting  as  guide,  stopped  all  on  a  sudden  and  pointed 
silently  before  him.  Don  looked  and  saw  that 
they  had  barely  escaped  running  into  an  ambus- 
cade that  had  been  prepared  for  them.  Having 
crossed  the  creek  at  the  bridge,  corporal  Mack 
and  his  men  had  made  the  best  of  their  way  to 
the  main  road  and  were  now  hidden  in  the  bushes 
on  each  side  of  it,  awaiting  the  approach  of  the 


THE  DESERTERS  AT  THE  SHOW.      219 

deserters.  Don  could  see  their  uniform  caps,  and 
he  counted  a  dozen  of  them  in  all. 

"  Mack  knows  that  we  are  going  to  the  show, 
and  he  will  exert  himself  to  the  utmost  to  prevent 
it,"  said  the  sergeant,  after  he  and  Don  had  made 
a  wide  detour  and  safely  passed  the  ambuscade. 
"  We  must  hurry  on  now,  for  we  are  not  safe  so 
long  as  we  wear  these  uniforms." 

It  would  have  been  much  easier  walking  in  the 
main  road,  which  was  in  plain  sight  of  them,  but  the 
sergeant  dared  not  follow  it,  for  he  and  Don  were 
in  no  condition,  weighed  down  as  they  were  by 
their  wet  clothing,  to  engage  in  a  foot-race  with 
the  fleet  and  persevering  corporal,  who  would  be 
sure  to  see  them  the  moment  they  came  out  of 
their  concealment.  So  they  kept  to  the  bushes, 
and  at  the  end  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  came  to 
a  halt  in  the  rear  of  a  snug  little  farm-house, 
which  was  the  home  of  one  Asa  Peters,  who  had 
agreed,  for  a  suitable  consideration,  to  furnish 
them  with  disguises  whenever  they  might  stand 
in  need  of  them.  Asa  was  chopping  wood  in  the 
back  yard,  and  Egan  had  no  difficulty  in  attract- 
ing his  attention.  Hearing  his  name  pronounced 
in  a  cautious  tone,  Asa  threw  down  his  axe,  and 


220      DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

after  looking  all  around  to  make  sure  that  his 
movements  were  not  observed,  he  climbed  the 
fence  and  joined  the  deserters  behind  the  smoke- 
house, where  they  had  stopped  for  concealment. 
He  was  a  stalwart  young  rustic  with  a  red  head, 
a  peaked  nose,  and  a  freckled  face — very  homely, 
in  short,  but  with  a  most  exalted  opinion  of  his 
personal  appearance. 

"I  say,  Asa,"  said  Egan,  hurriedly.  "We 
want  those  clothes  now.  Is  there  any  way  for  us 
to  get  into  the  house  without  being  seen  ?  " 

Asa  leaned  against  the  smoke-house  and  twirled 
his  thumbs,  but  said  nothing. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Egan,  in  some 
alarm.  "  You  are  not  going  back  from  your 
word,  are  you  ?  You  agreed  to  furnish  each  of 
us  with  a  suit  of  your  clothes  for  a  dollar  apiece, 
and  we  expect  you  to  live  up  to  your  bargain." 

"Wai,"  drawled  Asa.  "You  see— Sally, 
she " 

He  blushed  and  hesitated. 

"Well,  go  on;  what  about  Sally?"  asked 
Don,  impatiently.  "  She  doesn't  want  to  borrow 
your  clothes,  does  she  ?  " 

"  Eh  ?    No,"  said  Asa,  indignantly.     "  But  she 


THE  DESEETERS  AT  THE  SHOW.      221 

wants  to  go  to  the  show,  an'  how  am  I  goin'  to 
take  her  when  I  aint  got  no  duds  to  go  in  ? 
That's  what's  been  a  botherin'  me.  An',  you  see, 
if  I  don't  take  her,  'Bijah  Sawinwill." 

"  Well,  let  'Bijah  have  her,"  said  Don. 

"  Not  by  a  long  shot." 

Asa  glared  savagely  at  Don  as  he  said  this,  and 
brought  his  fist  down  into  his  open  palm  with  a 
sounding  ^whack.  The  idea  of  allowing  a  rival  to 
walk  off  with  his  sweetheart  was  not  to  be  enter- 
tained for  a  moment.  Don  looked  blank ;  but 
Egan,  who  had  had  dealings  with  Asa  before, 
thought  he  knew  a  sure  road  to  his  heart. 

"Now,  Asa,"  said  he,  coaxingly,  "listen  to  me 
for  a  moment.  I  know  that  Sally  is  a  beauty 
(Egan  had  never  seen  the  girl  in  his  life),  but 
there  are  plenty  of  others  in  the  world  who  are 
just  as  handsome,  and  a  dashing,  good-looking 
young  fellow  like  yourself  can  always  take  his 
pick." 

Asa  stroked  the  yellow  down  on  his  chin  and 
grinned  complacently. 

"Besides,  we'll  make  it  worth  your  while  to 
stick  to  your  bargain,"  continued  Egan,  closely 
watching  the  effect  of  his  words.  "We  will 


222  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

give  you  a  dollar  extra  for  the  use  of  your 
clothes." 

Asa  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  interested. 

"  We  mean  by  that,  a  dollar  extra  for  the  use 
of  each  suit/'  put  in  Don.  "  And  if  you  want  it, 
we  will  pay  you  half  the  money  in  advance." 

It  was  evident  from  the  expression  on  the  face 
of  Asa  Peters  that  there  was  a  severe  conflict 
going  on  in  his  mind — a  conflict  between  his  love 
of  money  and  his  deep-rooted  affection  for  Sally  ; 
but  avarice  conquered  at  last,  and  without  saying 
a  word  Asa  climbed  the  fence  and  led  the  way  to- 
ward the  house,  followed  by  the  deserters,  who 
exchanged  many  a  wink,  and  laughed  silently  at 
the  boy  who  was  willing  to  give  up  his  sweetheart 
for  two  dollars. 

Asa  led  the  deserters  up  the  back  stairs  and 
into  his  room,  whose  front  window,  which  was 
open,  looked  out  upon  the  road.  While  he  was 
taking  from  his  trunk  his  cherished  wearing 
apparel,  the  judicious  selection  of  which  had 
occasioned  him  infinite  trouble  and  perplexity, 
Don  glanced  out  at  the  window  and  saw  Corporal 
Mack  and  his  men  approaching. 

"  I  declare,  Egan,"  said  he,  "  we're  cornered." 


THE  DESERTERS  AT  THE  SHOW.      223 

"  0,  no,"  said  the  latter,  who  was  making  all 
haste  to  get  out  of  his  wet  uniform.  "  Mack 
doesn't  know  that  we  are  here,  and  even  if  he 
suspected  it,  he  has  no  right  to  search  the  house." 

Having  placed  his  best  suits  of  clothes  in 
orderly  array  upon  the  bed  (the  deep  sighs  he 
uttered  while  he  was  thus  engaged  proved  that  Sally 
was  not  yet  wholly  forgotten),  Asa  seated  himself 
on  his  trunk  and  looked  out  of  the  window,  while 
Don  and  his  companion  proceeded  to  put  on  thair 
disguises.  And  disguises  they  proved  to  be  in 
every  sense  of  the  word.  It  is  doubtful  if  even 
the  sharp  eyes  of  Corporal  Mack  could  have 
penetrated  them.  The  boys  looked  for  all  the 
world  like  a  couple  of  green  country  fellows  who 
were  out  for  a  holiday  ;  and  when  Don,  after  dis- 
arranging his  hair,  and  assuming  an  expression  of 
countenance  that  would  have  done  credit  to  Mark 
Twain's  "Inspired  Idiot,"  walked  across  the  floor 
after  the  manner  of  a  plantation  darkey,  Egan, 
who  never  could  control  himself  when  he  wanted 
to  laugh,  rolled  on  the  bed  convulsed  with  merri- 
ment. Nothing  but  the  near  approach  of  Cor- 
poral Mack-  and  his  men  kept  him  from  shouting 
at  the  top  of  his  voice. 


224          DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"Look  here,  Gordon,"  said  he,  as  soon  as  he 
could  speak.  "  No  more  of  that.  You  will  give 
us  away,  sure.  Mack  is  a  Southern  boy,  and  he 
knows  the  negro  style  of  progression  as  well  as 
you  do.  So  mind  what  you  are  about." 

Just  then  the  clear  tones  of  Corporal  Mack 
sounded  under  the  window.  "  Hallo,  '  Asa," 
said  he.  "Seen  any  of  our  boys  around  here 
lately  ?  " 

"  Wai,  yes,"  drawled  Asa,  in  reply.  "  I  seed 
a  power  of  'em  yesterday." 

"  Have  you  seen  any  of  them  to-day  ?  " 

"  Wai,  yes  ;  but  I  seed  a  right  smart  sprinklin' 
of  'em  yesterday." 

"  Don't  say  that  again,  Asa,"  whispered  Egan, 
excitedly.  "If  you  do  you  will  let  the  cat  out 
of  the  bag,  sure.  That  boy  is  sharper  than  a 
steel  trap,  and  you  must  be  careful  how  you  talk 
to  him  " 

"  You  say  you  have  seen  some  of  our  boys 
to-day,"  continued  the  corporal.  "Were  their 
names  Egan  and  Gordon  ?  I  thought  so. 
Well,  where  are  they  now  ?  " 

"I  don't  rightly  know  jest  where  they  be," 
answered  Asa ;  and  he  didn't  either,  for  his 


THE   DESERTERS   AT   THE   SHOW.  225 

back  was  turned  toward  the  two  boys  in  ques- 
tion. 

"  I  see  very  plainly  that  there  is  nothing  to 
be  gained  by  questioning  you,"  said  the  corporal, 
whose  suspicions  had  been  aroused.  "  You  know 
where  those  two  fellows  are,  and  when  you  see 
them  again  you  may  tell  them  that  we  are  going 
to  the  show,  too." 

Asa  said  he  would,  and  the  corporal  and  his 
squad  moved  off. 

"What  did  I  tell  you?"  exclaimed  Egan. 
"  Didn't  I  say  that  if  he  wasn't  recalled,  he 
would  follow  us  all  over  the  country  ?  Now, 
let's  be  moving.  We'll  keep  out  of  sight  as 
much  as  possible  until  we  reach  the  village, 
and  after  we  have  got  into  the  crowd,  we  shall 
be  comparatively  safe.  But  remember  this  :  If 
you  are  separated  from  me  by  any  mischance, 
dodge  every  fellow  in  uniform  you  see,  no  matter 
whether  he  wears  a  bayonet  by  his  side  or  not. 
Even  Hop  and  Curtis  would  report  us  to  the 
corporal  if  they  should  see  and  recognize  us," 

Don  had  never  engaged  in  an  undertaking  that 
was  more  to  his  liking.  It  was  one  that  required 
the  exercise  of  all  the  skill  and  cunning  h.Q 


226      DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

possessed,  and  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  know- 
ing that  while  he  was  working  to  the  utmost  to 
accomplish  his  object,  he  was  violating  no  rule, 
and  was  in  no  danger  of  being  taken  to  task  when 
he  returned  to  camp. 

Having  paid  Asa  a  portion  of  the  money  they 
had  agreed  to  give  him  for  the  use  of  his  clothes, 
Don  and  his  companion  made  the  best  of  their 
way  toward  Bridgeport,  which  was  filled  to  over- 
flowing with  people  from  the  surrounding  country 
who  had  flocked  in  to  see  the  sights.  They 
mingled  with  the  crowd  and  acted  their  parts  as 
rustics  to  perfection.  They  gazed  with  open 
mouth  and  eyes  at  every  thing  they  saw,  munched 
apples  and  gingerbread  as  they  walked  along, 
and  tried  to  beat  down  the  price  of  candy  as  often 
as  they  stopped  to  purchase.  They  went  into  all 
the  side-shows  to  see  the  curiosities  on  exhibition, 
and  manfully  bore  their  part  in  the  crush  and 
jam  that  took  place  when  the  ticket- wagon  was 
opened. 

Up  to  this  time  they  had  succeeded  in  keeping 
out  of  the  way  of  their  fellow-students,  all  of 
whom,  having  been  warned  by  the  corporal,  were 
keeping  a  sharp  look-out  for  them  ;  but  now  they 


THE   DESERTERS   AT   THE   SHOW.  227 

ran  against  some  of  them  almost  before  they 
knew  it.  Having  secured  their  tickets  after  a 
terrific  struggle,  they  moved  with  the  crowd 
toward  the  entrance  to  the  "grand  pavilion," 
and  all  on  a  sudden  found  themselves  face  to 
face  with  four  of  the  corporal's  men.  Don  and 
his  friend  knew  that  they  belonged  to  Mack's 
squad,  for  they  wore  bayonets  by  their  sides  to 
show  that  they  were  on  duty.  They  stood  two 
on  each  side  of  the  entrance,  and  looked  closely 
at  everybody  who  went  in.  The  situation  was 
growing  interesting  ;  and  it  grew  still  more  in- 
teresting before  the  afternoon  was  over,  and 
some  of  the  village  people  afterward  declared  that 
Don  and  Corporal  Mack  furnished  the  best  part 
of  the  entertainment. 

"  Now  for  it,  Gordon,"  said  Egan,  in  an  ex- 
cited whisper.  "See  how  they  stare  at  everbody. 
That  proves  that  they  either  know  or  suspect  that 
we  are  disguised.  It  would  be  a  pity  if  we  were 
to  be  gobbled  right  here  in  the  presence  of  all 
these  people.  How  everybody  would  laugh  at 
us  ! " 

But  both  the  boys  were  equal  to  the  emer- 
gency. Egan,  trusting  entirely  to  his  disguise, 


228  DON    GORDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX. 

kept  straight  ahead  without  looking  at  the  sen- 
tries, while  Don,  throwing  all  the  stupidity  he 
could  into  an  unusually  intelligent  countenance, 
gazed  about  him  with  a  frightened  air,  and  clung 
to  his  friend's  coat-tails  as  if  he  were  afraid  of 
being  lost.  That  move  came  very  near  being 
fatal  to  them..  Egan  laughed  audibly,  in  spite  of 
himself,  and  hurried  on,  dragging  Don  after  him  ; 
while  the  four  guards  exchanged  significant 
glances,  and  one  of  them  hurried  out  to  find 
Corporal  Mack.  The  deserters  did  not  know 
it,  but  from  that  moment  they  were  under  sur- 
veillance. 

Having  taken  a  look  at  the  animals  they  went 
into  the  second  tent,  picked  out  a  good  seat, 
invested  a  portion  of  their  pocket-money  in  pea- 
nuts, and  waited  patiently  for  the  performance 
to  begin.  They  did  not  pay  much  attention  to 
the  stale  jokes  of  the  clowns,  but  they  were  really 
interested  in  the  riding  and  leaping — so  much  so 
that  they  did  not  notice  that  Corporal  Mack  was 
improving  the  opportunity  to  station  his  men  so 
that  they  could  not  escape.  Finally  the  trick 
mule  was  brought  in,  and  after  he  had  gone 
through  with  his  antics  and  thrown  the  darkey 


THE   DESERTERS   AT   THE   SHOW.  229 

who  tried  to  ride  him,  some  of  the  spectators 
went  out,  while  those  who  had  purchased  tickets 
for  the  musical  entertainment,  moved  over  to  the 
other  side  of  the  tent.  Among  the  latter  were 
Don  and  Egan. 

By  this  time  Don  had  the  satisfaction  of  know-* 
ing  that  he  had  made  himself  an  object  of  interest 
to  the  people  about  him,  who  told  one  another 
that  he  was  the  greenest  specimen  of  a  country 
boy  they  had  ever  seen.  When  he  moved  with 
the  rest  over  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  tent,  he 
could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  give  a  specimen 
of  old  Jordan's  style  of  locomotion ;  and  he  did 
it  so  perfectly  that  he  excited  the  laughter  of 
some  and  the  sincere  pity  of  others,  who  believed 
that  that  was  his  usual  way  of  walking.  There 
was  one,  however,  who  was  keeping  a  sharp  eye 
on  all  his  movements,  and  who  was  not  deceived 
— a  spruce  young  soldier,  who  elbowed  his  way 
through  the  crowd,  and,  to  the  surprise  of  every- 
body, laid  hold  of  the  young  countryman's  collar. 

"  That's  most  too  attenuated,"  said  he,  with  a 
laugh.  "  No  white  fellow  ever  had  so  outlandish 
a  gait.  Gordon,  I  know  you,  and  I  have  come  for 
you,  too." 


230  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

Corporal  Mack  had  never  yet  failed  to  capture 
the  deserter  of  whom  he  had  been  sent  in  pursuit. 
He  was  noted  for  his  grip,  he  had  confidence  in  it, 
and  when  he  placed  his  hand  on  Don's  collar  he 
thought  he  had  him,  sure  ;  but,  as  it  happened, 
he  didn't  know  the  boy  he  was  trying  to  arrest. 

Don  wheeled  as  quick  as  thought,  tore  himself 
lose  from  the  detaining  hand  and  took  to  his 
heels,  darting  like  a  flash  through  the  crowd  of 
spectators  who,  astonished  beyond  measure  to  see 
the  awkward  clown,  who  had  moved  so  slowly 
and  painfully  over  the  ground,  suddenly  trans- 
formed into  a  fleet-footed  runner,  parted  right 
and  left  to  give  him  room,  and  cheered  him 
lustily  as  he  passed  through  their  ranks.  Cor- 
poral Mack  started  in  hot  pursuit.  His  men,  who 
had  been  stationed  around  the  outside  of  the  tent, 
drew  in  upon  the  fugitive  from  all  sides  ;  while 
Egan,  seeing  that  no  attention  was  paid  to  him- 
self, crawled  through  between  the  seats,  raised 
the  canvas  and  took  himself  safely  off. 

It  was  an  amusing  as  well  as  an  exciting  race 
that  came  off  in  that  tent  that  afternoon,  and  the 
shouts  of  laughter  and  yells  of  encouragement 
that  arose  on  all  sides  were  almost  deafening. 


THE  DESERTEES  AT  THE  SHOW.      231 

Don,  in  his  ill-fitting  clothes  and  big  cowhide 
boots,  looked  clumsy  enough,  but  he  got  over  the 
ground  at  an  astonishing  rate.  Seeing  that  every 
way  of  escape,  except  one,  was  closed  against  him, 
he  dashed  straight  across  the  ring  toward  the 
seats  that  had  just  been  vacated.  He  ascended  to 
the  topmost  one  in  half  a  dozen  jumps,  and  diving 
through  the  opening  between  the  top  of  the  tent 
and  the  side,  he  dropped  lightly  to  the  ground  and 
continued  his  flight,  the  cheers  and  laughter  of  the 
amused  spectators  ringing  in  his  ears  as  he  went. 

There  were  two  long  freight  trains  standing  on 
the  railroad  track,  which  was  close  at  hand.  To- 
ward these  Don  bent  his  steps,  intent  on  getting 
out  of  sight  as  soon  as  possible  ;  and  without 
pausing  to  consider  the  risk  he  ran  in  so  doing,  he 
crawled  under  one  of  the  cars  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  track.  Corporal  Mack  followed  him 
without  loss  of  time  ;  but  when  he  arose  to 
an  upright  position,  after  crawling  under  the 
car,  Don  was  not  to  be  seen.  He  was  dodging 
about  among  the  freight-houses ;  and  after  a 
twenty  minutes'  run,  having,  as  he  believed, 
placed  a  safe  distance  between  himself  and  his 
pursuers,  he  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk 


232  DON    GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

to  take  a  rest.  Pulling  Asa's  big  red  handker- 
chief from  his  pocket  and  mopping  his  dripping 
forehead  vigorously,  he  broke  out  into  a  cheery 
laugh,  and  was  surprised  as  well  as  startled  to 
hear  it  echoed  close  by. 

"Well,  my  young  friend,  you  seem  to  be  in 
good  humor,"  said  a  pleasant  voice. 

Don  looked  up  and  saw  before  him  an  old 
gentleman  leaning  on  his  cane  and  beaming  at 
him  over  his  gold  spectacles. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  he,  respectfully,  at  the  same 
time  imitating  Asa's  drawl.  "I've  been  to  the 
show." 

"  Ah  !  indeed.  And  you  saw  the  clowns,  I 
suppose  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  but  I  didn't  care  for  them.  I"  seen 
the  tigers  and  the  elephants  and  the  boy- 
constructors  and  all  them  things  ;  and  I  seen  that 
there  mu-el  throw  that  there  nigger " 

Here  Don  went  off  into  another  paroxysm  of 
laughter.  The  old  gentleman  laughed  too  and 
passed  on,  marveling  greatly  at  the  boy's  inno- 
cence, and  wondering  where  in  the  world  he  came 
from. 

After  taking  time  to  cool  off  a  little  and  to 


THE  DESERTERS  AT   THE   SHOW.  233 

recover  his  breath,,  Don  got  upon  his  feet  and 
walked  away.  All  the  fun  was  over  now  so  far  as 
the  show  was  concerned.  His  disguise  being 
known,  it  would  be  dangerous  for  him  to  stay 
about  the  village,  and  the  only  thing  he  could  do 
was  to  go  back  to  the  home  of  Asa  Peters,  where 
he  hoped  to  find  his  friend  Egan. 

"  I  hope  he  wasn't  captured,"  thought  Don, 
"  for  I  should  find  it  very  lonely  roaming  about 
the  woods  all  by  myself.  Besides,  I  don't  know 
where  those  trout-streams  are  that  he  said  would 
afford  us  so  much  sport.  There's  one  thing  about 
it :  I  am  out,  and  I  shall  not  go  back  until  I  get 
ready." 

Don  would  doubtless  have  been  very  much 
surprised  if  any  one  had  told  him  that  when  he 
got  ready  to  go  back  to  camp  he  would  not  be 
allowed  to  do  so  ;  but  such  was  the  case,  as  he 
found  when  he  made  the  attempt. 

Just  before  dark  Don  came  within  sight  of 
Asa's  home.  As  he  was  hurrying  along  the  road, 
not  dreaming  of  danger,  he  heard  a  familiar  voice 
calling  to  him  ;  and  looking  in  the  direction  from 
which  it  came,  he  saw  his  missing  friend  Egan 
snugly  hidden  away  among  the  bushes  in  a  fence- 


234  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

corner.  When  he  saw  that  he  had  attracted 
Don's  attention  he  broke  out  into  a  hearty  peal  of 
laughter. 

"  You're  a  good  one,  Gordon,"  said  he,  "  and  I 
would  give  something  to  know  how  Corporal 
Mack  feels  over  his  failure  to  make  a  prisoner  of 
you.  I  never  knew  a  boy  to  get  away  before 
when  once  Mack  got  a  good  grip  on  his  collar, 
and  neither  did  I  ever  see  No.  10  cowhide  boots 
climb  over  the  ground  so  rapidly.  You  have 
done  something  worth  boasting  of." 

"  What  are  you  doing  there  ?  "  asked  Don. 

"  Waiting  for  you.  Come  over  here.  I  struck 
out  for  this  place  as  soon  as  I  could  get  out  of  the 
tent,"  said  the  sergeant,  as  Don  climbed  the 
fence,  "hoping  to  secure  possession  of  our  uni- 
forms before  the  corporal  could  get  here  ;  but  he 
and  his  men  hired  a  wagon  and  a  span  of  horses 
and  got  ahead  of  me." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  they  are  guarding 
the  house  now  ?  "  exclaimed  Don. 

"  Certainly  I  do,  and  you  would  have  run  right 
into  their  clutches  if  I  hadn't  been  here  to  warn 
you.  They'll  get  supper  and  sleep  there  to-night, 
and  we  must  look  elsewhere  for  grub  and  lodging. 


THE   DESERTERS   AT   THE    SHOW.  235 

Asa  will  be  in  a  fearful  way  about  his  good 
clothes,  but  we  can't  help  that.  We  can't  get 
our  uniforms  while  Mack  is  prowling  around." 

Egan,  who  was  well  acquainted  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, had  no  difficulty  in  finding  food  and 
shelter  for  himself  and  his  companion.  Another 
farm-house  opened  its  hospitable  doors  to  them, 
and  there  they  passed  the  night,  setting  out 
bright  and  early  the  next  morning  to  try  one  of 
the  trout-streams  of  which  Egan  had  spoken. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  they  secured  an  interview 
with  Asa,  who,  after  telling  them  that  Corporal 
Mack  had  been  recalled  that  morning,  growled 
lustily  at  them  for  keeping  his  clothes  so  long. 
In  order  to  silence  him  and  make  sure  of  other 
disguises  in  future,  in  case  they  should  need  them, 
they  gave  him  an  extra  dollar,  and  paid  his 
mother  the  same  amount  for  drying  and  pressing 
out  their  uniforms. 

During  the  next  two  days  the  deserters 
thoroughly  enjoyed  themselves,  living  on  the  fat 
of  the  land,  and  catching  as  many  fish  as  they 
could  dispose  of.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  third 
day  they  began  to  talk  of  returning  to  camp. 
They  took  supper  with  Asa  that  night,  and  as 


236  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

soon  as  darkness  came  to  conceal  their  movements 
they  set  out  for  the  works,  hoping  to  creep  by  the 
sentries  and  reach  the  shelter  of  their  tents  with- 
out arousing  anybody,  thus  winding  up  their 
exploits  in  the  most  approved  style  ;  but  they  did 
not  get  into  the  camp  as  easily  as  they  thought 
they  would.  While  they  were  passing  through 
a  piece  of  thick  woods  on  their  way  to  the  bridge, 
they  were  suddenly  surrounded  by  a  multitude  of 
dark  forms  which  seemed  to  rise  out  of  the  ground 
on  all  sides  of  them,  and  before  they  could  resist 
or  cry  out,  they  were  seized  by  strong  hands  and 
hurried  away  through  the  darkness. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A     NIGHT     ATTACK. 

"  0  QUAD,  halt !     No.  4." 

It  was  Thursday  afternoon,  and  the  relief 
was  going  its  rounds.  When  his  number  was 
called  Bert  Gordon  stepped  forward,  and  holding 
his  musket  at  "arms  port,"  prepared  to  receive 
the  orders  which  the  sentry  whom  he  was  about 
to  relieve  had  to  pass,  while  the  two  corporals 
stood  by  and  listened. 

"  My  instructions  are  to  stop  anybody  who  may 
attempt  to  go  out  of  the  lines  without  a  pass,  and 
to  keep  a  good  lookout  for  prowlers,"  said  the 
sentry. 

"  For  prowlers  ! "  echoed  Bert.  "  What  is  the 
meaning  of  that  order  ?  " 

"  I  give  it  up,"  replied  the  sentry.  "  I  pass  the 
command  to  you  just  as  it  was  given  to  me.  If 
you  see  anybody  prowling  about  on  the  other  side 
of  the  creek,  call  the  corporal." 

The  sentry  fell  into  place  in   the  rear  of  the 


238  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

squad,  and  the  relief  passed  on?  leaving  Bert 
alone  on  his  post. 

"  Prowlers,"  he  repeated,  over  and  over  again. 
"I  don't  understand  it.  Why  should  there  be 
any  more  danger  from  prowlers  now  than  at  any 
other  time  ?  O  ! "  he  added,  an  idea  suddenly 
occurring  to  him.  "  Perhaps  they  think  that  Don 
and  Egan  will  try  to  work  their  way  back  to  camp 
this  afternoon.  Well,  if  they  do,  they'll  not  get 
by  me." 

So  saying,  Bert  settled  his  musket  firmly  on 
his  shoulder  and  began  pacing  his  beat,  casting 
suspicious  and  searching  glances  now  and  then 
toward  the  bushes  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
creek. 

When  Bert  first  learned  that  his  brother  and 
Egan  had  deserted  the  camp  he  was  almost  over- 
whelmed with  surprise  and  mortification.  He 
supposed  they  had  committed  a  serious  offence, 
one  that  would  be  sure  to  bring  disgrace  and 
punishment  upon  them,  and  took  it  so  much  to 
heart  that  the  boys  were  obliged  to  explain  mat- 
tors  to  him.  They  assured  him  that  the  deserters 
had  not  lowered  their  standing  or  forfeited  the 
good-will  of  the  teachers,  and  that  all  they  had 


A   NIGHT   ATTACK.  239 

to  do  to  make  heroes  of  themselves  was  to  outrun 
or  outwit  the  parties  that  were  sent  in  pursuit  of 
them,  and  make  their  way  back  to  camp  without 
being  caught. 

"  They  are  heroes  already,"  said  one  of  the 
students,  with  great  enthusiasm,  "  for  didn't  they 
swim  the  creek  during  their  flight  ?  That's  some- 
thing that  none  of  the  fellows  ever  did  before.  I 
wish  they  might  get  back  all  right,  but  the  super- 
intendent has  sent  Mack  after  them,  and  he's  a 
bad  one.  He's  bound  to  catch  them." 

This  seemed  to  be  the  opinion  of  all  the  stu- 
dents ;  and  consequently  when  Corporal  Mack 
returned  to  camp  and  reported  that  he  had  found 
Don  Gordon  at  the  show  disguised  as  a  country 
boy,  and  had  actually  had  his  hand  on  his  collar, 
and  Don  had  broken  away  and  beaten  him  in  a 
fair  race,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he  was 
incumbered  by  heavy  boots  that  were  many  sizes 
too  large  for  him — when  the  corporal  reported  all 
this,  the  boys  were  not  a  little  surprised. 

"  It  would  have  made  you  laugh  to  see  him," 
said  the  corporal,  who  had  the  greatest  respect 
for  the  boy  who  had  so  neatly  outwitted  him. 
"  He  looked  and  acted  so  much  like  a  born  sim- 


240      DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

pleton  that  I  couldn't  make  up  my  mind  that  it 
was  Don  Gordon  until  he  revealed  his  identity  by 
walking  like  a  field-negro.  Then  I  knew  in  a 
moment  that  he  was  the  fellow  I  wanted,  and  I — 
well,  I  didn't  get  him,  but  I  would  have  got  him 
if  I  hadn't  been  recalled.  He  had  a  suit  of  Asa 
Peter's  clothes  on,  and  I  had  Asa's  house  guarded 
BO  that  he  couldn't  get  his  uniform." 

Why  he  had  been  recalled  so  soon,  and  at  a 
time  too  when  he  had  the  deserters  "just  where 
he  wanted  them,"  the  corporal  could  not  imagine ; 
and  neither  could  the  rest  of  the  students  under- 
stand why  their  liberty  had  been  stopped  so  sud- 
denly. On  the  day  following  that  on  which  the 
seven-elephant  railroad  show  had  pitched  its  tent 
in  Bridgeport  all  passes  had  been  refused,  and 
since  that  time  no  one  had  been  outside  the  gates 
except  the  mess-cooks.  They  were  permitted  to 
go  to  the  spring  three  times  every  day,  and  they 
always  went  under  guard  too.  Such  a  regulation 
had  never  been  established  before,  and  the  stu- 
dents were  at  a  loss  to  know  the  meaning  of  it. 

"  It's  all  Gordon's  fault  and  Egan's,"  said  one 
of  the  boys.  "  They  have  shown  that  a  fellow 
can  desert  under  the  eye  of  a  sentry,  if  he  sees  fit 


A  NIGHT   ATTACK.  241 

to  do  so,  and  the  superintendent  is  afraid  that 
some  of  us  will  follow  their  example.  That's  the 
reason  he  sends  a  guard  with  the  mess-cooks  when 
they  go  to  the  spring  after  water." 

"  There's  where  you  are  mistaken,"  said  one  of 
the  first-class  sergeants,  in  reply.  "We  are  in 
the  enemy's  country " 

The  boys  who  were  standing  around  laughed 
uproariously,  and  turning  on  their  heels,  walked 
away.  They  had  heard  quite  enough  of  such  talk 
as  that,  and  wanted  to  know  some  good  reason  for 
the  stopping  of  their  liberty. 

While  Bert  Gordon  paced  his  beat  on  this  par- 
ticular afternoon,  he  kept  one  eye  directed  toward 
the  bus-hes  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  creek,  and 
the  other  turned  toward  the  camp.  The  huge 
tent  that  had  been  erected  the  day  before  for  the 
accommodation  of  visitors,  was  already  pretty  well 
filled  ;  and  from  his  lofty  perch  on  the  embank- 
ment Bert  could  see  his  school-fellows  strolling 
abont  in  company  with  their  parents,  or  with 
their  brothers  and  sisters,  who  had  come  hundreds 
of  miles  to  see  the  students  in  their  summer 
quarters.  Every  now  and  then  one  of  the  village 
hacks  would  drive  in  at  the  south  gate  and  deposit 
11 


242  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

a  load  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  before  the  door  of 
the  superintendent's  marquee.  Every  train  that 
steamed  up  to  the  station  brought  a  fresh  influx 
of  visitors,  and  finally  the  camp  began  to  present 
quite  a  holiday  appearance. 

"  Don't  I  wish  that  my  father  and  mother  were 
among  them  I"  thought  Bert,  who  began  to  feel 
lonely  when  he  saw  that  almost  every  boy  who 
was  off  duty  had  hastened  to  the  tent  to  receive 
some  relative  or  friend  who  had  come  there  to  see 
him.  "  If  they  didn't  live  so  far  away  they  would 
certainly  be  here  ;  but,  as  it  is " 

Bert  suddenly  stopped,  and  shading  his  eyes 
with  his  hand,  looked  intently  at  something  on  the 
other  side  of  the  creek.  He  was  certain  that  the 
bushes  toward  which  he  directed  his  gaze,  were 
suddenly  and  violently  agitated,  as  if  some  heavy 
body  were  working  its  way  through  them.  A 
moment  later  something  that  looked  like  a 
head  crowned  with  feathers  was  thrust  cau- 
tiously into  view;  then  a  dark  brown  face  ap- 
peared and  a  pair  of  gli'tering  eyes  looked 
straight  at  him. 

"  What  in  the  world  is  th;  t  ?  "  muttered  Bert, 
after  he  had  winked  hard  and  looked  again  to 


A   NIGHT   ATTACK.  243 

make  sure  that  he  had  not  been  deceived.  "  It 
can't  be  a  head,  and  yet — it  is  a  head  and 
nothing  else.  Corporal  of  the  guard  No.  4  !  " 

The  head,  or  whatever  it  was,  bobbed  down 
out  of  sight  in  an  instant,  and  presently  the 
corporal  came  hurrying  up. 

"  There's  something  or  other  over  there  in 
the  bushes,"  began  Bert,  in  response  tc/  the 
non-commissioned  officer's  inquiries. 

"And  it  looked  like  a  head  with  feathers  on 
it,  I  suppose,"  interrupted  the  corporal,  with 
some  impatience  in  his  tones.  "I  don't  see 
what  is  the  matter  with  everybody  this  after- 
noon. You  are  the  third  one  who  has  called 
me  out  for  nothing." 

"  But  I  didn't  call  you  out  for  nothing," 
protested  Bert.  "My  eyes  never  went  back  on 
me  yet,  and  I  know  that  there  is  somebody 
over  there  in  the  bushes." 

"  I  don't  dispute  that.  It  is  probably  your 
brother  or  Egan  who  is  watching  for  a  chance 
to  creep  by  some  of  you  sentries." 

"But  they  wouldn't  have  feathers  on  their 
heads,  would  they  ?  "  demanded  Bert. 

"  0,  get  out  ! "  exclaimed  the  corporal.     "  You 


244  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

didn't  see  any  feathers.  You  only  dreamed 
it." 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  I  have  been  asleep  ?  " 
cried  Bert. 

"It  looks  like  it,  for  I  declare  I  don't  see 
how  any  boy  who  is  wide  awake — Well,  well,  have 
it  your  own  way/'  said  the  corporal,  who  noticed 
that  'Bert's  cheek  began  to  flush  and  his  eye  to 
sparkle  as  if  he  were  growing  indignant.  "Just 
keep  your  eye  on  him  and  see  that  he  doesn't 
get  into  camp ;  that's  all  you've  got  to  do. 
But  I  say,  Gordon,  we  are  in  for  a  good  time 
to-night,  are  we  not  ?  Did  you  ever  see  so 
many  visitors  before  ?  " 

"I  never  did,"  answered  Bert.  "This  is  my 
first  camp,  you  know." 

"  Well,  fellows  who  have  been  here  during  four 
camps  say  that  they  never  saw  such  a  crowd 
at  this  stage  of  the  proceedings,"  continued  the 
corporal.  "  Our  friends  generally  put  in  an 
appearance  a  day  or  two  before  we  break  cam]), 
and  stay  with  us  during  the  examination  and 
over  commencement ;  and  what  it  was  that 
brought  them  here  so  early  in  the  day  this  year, 
I  can't  imagine.  But  we  are  glad  to  see  them 


A   NIGHT    ATTACK.  245 

all  the  same,  and  we're  going  to  have  a  smash- 
ing hop  to-night.  Some  of  the  fellows  have  sent 
to  town  for  the  music." 

"  You  didn't  hear  anybody  inquiring  for  me, 
did  you  ?  "  asked  Bert,  with  some  hesitation. 

"I  did  not.  In  fact,  I  didn't  hear  anybody 
asked  for.  I  took  time  to  kiss  my  mother  and 
say  'hallo'  to  my  big  brother,  and  that's  all 
the  visiting  I  can  do  until  I  go  off  duty.  Good- 
by,  but  don't  call  me  out  to  look  at  any  more 
feathers  unless  you  can  show  them  to  me." 

"  I  saw  them,  I  know  I  did,"  said  Bert,  to 
himself,  as  the  sentry  walked  away.  "  No  one 
can  make  me  believe  that  I  could  be  so  badly 
fooled  in  broad  daylight.  I  wish  I  could  have 
another  look  at  them." 

Once  more  Bert  turned  his  eyes  toward  the 
opposite  bank  of  the  stream ;  but  the  head 
with  the  crown  of  feathers  did  not  again  show 
itself,  and  he  finally  resumed  his  walk,  feeling 
very  lonely  and  homesick.  Almost  every  boy 
in  camp  had  -company — in  fact  he  could  not 
see  a  single  student  wandering  about  alone — 
but  no  one  had  been  heard  to  ask  for  him. 
He  would 'have  been  glad  to  see  anybody  from 


246      DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

Rochdale.  Even  the  sight  of  Dan  Evans's 
tan-colored  face  would  have  been  most  wel- 
come. 

Bert  stood  his  time  out  without  seeing  any- 
thing more  of  the  feathers,  and  finally  the  relief 
came  around.  Having  stacked  their  muskets  in 
the  guard-tent  the  sentries,  some  of  whom  had 
received  notice  of  the  arrival  of  their  friends, 
scattered  in  all  directions,  leaving  Bert  alone. 
He  strolled  slowly  along  the  street,  lifting  his 
cap  whenever  he  met  a  fellow-student  accom- 
panied by  his  mother  or  sister,  and  finally 
reached  the  door  of  his  own  tent,  which  was 
crowded  with  the  relatives  and  friends  of  his 
mess-mates.  He  was  about  to  pass  on  with  a 
word  of  apology,  when  a  lady,  whom  he  did 
not  see  until  that  moment,  arose  from  the 
camp-chair  in  which  she  was  sitting,  and  a 
second  later  Bert  was  clasped  in  the  arms  of 
his  mother.  General  Gordon  was  there,  too. 
He  had  been  visiting  with  his  old  friend  and 
preceptor,  the  superintendent,  'and  was  now 
looking  over  the  fortifications  in  company  with 
Mr.  Egan,  Mr.  Hopkins,  and  Mr.  Curtis,  all  of 
whom  were  veteran  soldiers.  He  came  into  the 


A   NIGHT    ATTACK.  247 

tent  in  a  few  minutes,  and  when  he  had  greeted 
Bert  warmly,  he  asked  for  Don. 

"I'm  sorry  to  say  that  I  don't  know  where  he 
is,"  replied  Bert,  who  then  went  on  to  give  a 
hurried  history  of  Don's  exploits  at  the  show, 
as  reported  by  Corporal  Mack.  Mrs.  Gordon 
listened  with  a  shade  of  anxiety  on  her  face, 
but  the  general  laughed  heartily. 

"  Boys  will  be  bo}rs,"  said  he.  "  And  so  long 
as  Don  doesn't  break  any  of  the  rules  of 
the  school,  or  cany  his  fun  too  far,  where  is 
the  harm?  The  superintendent  thinks  that  he 
and  Egan  have  played  their  parts  as  deserters 
very  well,  and  I  think  so,  too.  I  should  like 
very  much  to  see  him,  but  I  suppose  I  shall 
have  to  wait  until  he  gets  ready  to  come  in." 

"  You  will  not  go  home  until  you  do  see 
him,  will  you  ?  "  said  Bert. 

"0,  no.  We  shall  not  return  to  Mississippi 
until  you  and  Don  can  go  with  us,  and  then 
we  shall  have  company.  Young  Egan,  Hop- 
kins, and  Curtis  are  to  spend  a  month  at  our 
house.  I  have  just  been  talking  with  their 
fathers  about  it." 

Bert  was  delighted  to  hear  that  this   matter 


248  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

had  been  definitely  settled,  and  he  wished  that 
Don  had  been  there  to  hear  it  too.  He  little 
dreamed  that  his  brother  and  Egan,  who  were 
at  that  very  moment  laying  their  plans  for 
getting  into  camp,  were  destined  to  be  way- 
laid and  taken  captive  by  those  who  had  every 
reason  for  holding  fast  to  them  ;  but  such  was 
the  fact. 

As  Bert  was  to  be  off  duty  until  midnight 
he  had  ample  opportunity  to  visit  with  his 
father  and  mother.  He  walked  about  the  forti- 
fications with  them,  told  them  amusing  and 
interesting  stories  of  his  life  at  the  academy, 
and  ate  supper  with  them  in  the  big  tent. 
When  all  had  satisfied  their  appetites  with 
the  good  things  that  had  been  provided  for 
them,  the  tables  were  taken  out,  the  Chinese 
lanterns  that  hung  suspended  from  the  wires 
overhead  were  lighted,  the  music  struck  up  and 
the  dancing  began.  Everybody,  young  and 
old,  seemed  bent  on  having  a  good  time,  and 
the  fun  grew  fast  and  furious.  For  an  hour 
everything  passed  off  smoothly,  and  then  there 
came  a  most  unexpected  and  alarming  inter- 
ruption— the  ringing  report  of  a  musket,  fol- 


A   NIGHT   ATTACK.  249 

followed  by  a  yell  so  loud  and  unearthly  that 
it  made  the  cold  chills  creep  over  every  one  who 
heard  it.  The  music  ceased,  and  the  dancers 
stood  still  in  their  places  and  looked  at  one 
another.  There  was  a  moment's  hush,  and  then 
a  whole  chorus  of  blood-curdling  yells,  such  as 
no  one  in  that  company  had  ever  heard  before, 
rang  out  on  the  still  air.  They  seemed  to  come 
from  all  sides  of  the  camp,  and  their  effect  was 
most  startling.  The  ladies  screamed  and  ran  to 
their  husbands  for  protection ;  the  gentlemen 
stood  irresolute,  each  one  gazing  inquiringly 
into  the  face  of  his  neighbor,  and  the  students 
were  thrown  into  a  stupor  from  which  they 
were  quickly  aroused  by  the  roll  of  the  drum, 
and  loud  cries  of  "  Fall  in  !  Fall  in  ! " 

"  0,  my  boy,  you  mustn't  go  out  there,"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Gordon,  as  Bert  dashed  forward 
to  obey  the  order.  Her  face  was  very  white, 
and  she  clung  to  her  husband  for  support. 

"Let  him  go,"  said  the  general.  "If  he  has 
any  pluck  at  all,  now  is  the  time  for  him  to 
show  it." 

He  did  not  know  what  the  matter  was — 
there  were  few  in  that  camp  who  did— but  he 


250      DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

was  a  soldier.  When  he  was  in  the  service 
he  had  yielded  prompt  and  willing  obedience 
to  every  order  given  him  by  his  superiors,  no 
matter  how  great  the  danger  he  might  incur 
by  so  doing,  and  he  wanted  his  boys  to  do 
the  same  thing.  Bert  proved  that  he  had  in- 
herited a  goodly  share  of  his  father's  courage, 
for,  although  he  was  badly  frightened,  he  lost 
not  a  moment  in  obeying  the  order  to  fall  in. 
He  ran  into  the  guard-tent  and  seized  his 
musket ;  but,  to  his  great  surprise,  he  found  that 
the  bayonet  that  belonged  to  it  was  gone.  In 
fact  the  bayonets  were  all  gone,  and  the 
pieces  were  stacked  by  the  ramrods.  Utterly 
at  a  loss  how  to  account  for  this,  Bert  caught  up 
the  weapon  and  ran  to  join  his  company,  which 
was  forming  on  the  street  in  front  of  its  own 
tents. 

"Fall  in  !"  commanded  the  boy  captain. 
"Right  dress  !— Front  !  Order  arms  !— Fix 
bayonets  ! " 

These  orders  were  promptly  obeyed — all  ex- 
cept the  last.  When  the  young  soldiers  came 
to  feel  for  their  bayonets,  they  discovered  that 
their  scabbards  were  empty.  Before  anybody 


A   NIGHT    ATTACK.  251 

could  ask  the  meaning  of  this,  an  orderly 
hurried  up  with  instructions  for  the  captain 
to  move  his  company  by  the  left  flank,  and 
take  up  a  position  in  reserve,  so  as  to  pro- 
tect the  big  tent  and  its  occupants. 

All  this  while  those  hideous  yells  had  been 
arising  on  all  sides,  and  now  they  were  accom- 
panied by  the  discharge  of  fire-arms.  These 
discharges  rapidly  increased  in  number  and  fre- 
quency, until  it  seemed  as  if  the  camp  were  sur- 
rounded by  a  wall  of  flame ;  and  still  nobody 
knew  what  was  the  matter.  As  Bert's  company 
wheeled  into  position  the  first  company  went  by, 
moving  at  double  time,  and  disappeared  in  the 
darkness  ;  and  a  few  moments  later,  rapid  platoon 
firing  sounded  in  the  direction  of  the  bridge. 
Then  the  students  began  to  understand  the  mat- 
ter. 

"  It's  a  sham  fight,"  said  the  boy  who  stood  at 
Bert's  elbow. 

"But  who  are  our  assailants  ?  "  asked  the  lat- 
ter, who  was  greatly  relieved. 

That  was  a  question  the  boy  could  not  answer, 
but  Bert  was  able  to  answer  it  for  himself  a  few 
minutes  later.  The  fight  at  the  bridge  increased 


252          DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

in  fury,  and  the  first  company,  finding  its  position 
there  untenable,  was  ordered  to  fall  back  so  that 
the  artillery  could  have  a  chance  to  come  into 
play.  Encouraged  by  this  retrograde  movement 
the  enemy  rushed  across  the  bridge  in  overwhelm- 
ing numbers,  pressing  the  young  soldiers  so  closely 
that  the  retreat,  which  was  begun  in  good  order, 
very  speedily  became  a  rout.  The  old  German 
professor,  highly  excited,  ran  up,  sword  in  hand, 
and  made  frantic  appeals  to  them  to  stand  their 
ground  and  defend  the  gate  ;  but  the  ranks  were 
hopelessly  broken.  They  came  pell-mell  through 
the  tents  and  took  refuge  behind  Bert's  company, 
the  members  of  which  were  thunderstruck.  What 
kind  of  an  enemy  was  it  anyhow,  they  asked 
themselves,  that  could  throw  the  well-drilled  boys 
of  the  first  class  into  such  confusion  as  this  ? 

"  Young  shentlemens,"  exclaimed  the  professor, 
flourishing  his  sword  angrily  over  his  head,  "I 
been  ashamed  of  you.  Such  fighting  is  von  grand 
disgrace  to  the  Pridgebort  Military  Academy. 
Captain  Bumroy,"  he  added,  turning  to  the 
commander  of  Bert's  company,  "go  ahead  and 
sweep  the  enemy  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Make  good  piziness  now." 


A  NIGHT   ATTACK.  253 

Captain  Pomeroy  and  his  men  went  about  this 
work  as  if  they  were  in  earnest.  Holding  their 
muskets  at  "arms  port"  they  advanced  in  good 
order,  and  when  they  reached  the  end  of  their 
company  street,  they  found  out  who  the  enemy 
were.  They  were  Indians  —  veritable  Indians, 
hideously  painted  and  dressed  in  all  sorts  of  odd 
costumes.  They  had  gained  a  footing  inside  the 
works,  and  were  engaged  in  pulling  down  the 
tents  preparatory  to  carrying  them  off.  Excited 
as  Bert  was,  he  could  nevertheless  calmly  recall 
some  of  the  incidents  of  the  afternoon. 

"Now  I  know  the  meaning  of  that  order  re- 
garding prowlers,"  said  he  to  himself.  "I  did 
see  somebody  in  the  bushes  with  feathers  on  his 
head,  and  it  was  one  of  these  Indians  who  was 
reconnoitering  our  position." 

Being  interrupted  in  the  work  of  stealing  the 
tents,  the  Indians  advanced  in  a  body,  brandish- 
ing their  weapons  and  yelling  with  all  the  power 
of  their  lungs.  They  hoped,  no  doubt,  to  frighten 
Captain  Pomeroy  and  his  men,  create  a  panic 
among  them,  and,  having  scattered  them,  to 
take  some  of  them  prisoners  ;  but  in  this  they 
failed.  The  boys  were  so  very  much  in  earnest, 


254          DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

and  so  fully  determined  to  save  their  tents,  that 
they  came  very  near  changing  the  sham  fight 
into  a  real  fight.  Now  Captain  Pomeroy  saw 
why  it  was  that  the  teachers  had  taken  the  pre- 
caution to  remove  the  bayonets.  If  his  men  had 
heen  provided  with  those  dangerous  weapons, 
he  would  have  charged  the  Indians  without 
an  instant's  hesitation,  and  there  was  no  telling 
what  the  young  soldiers  might  have  done  in 
their  excitement. 

"  Steady  ! "  commanded  the  boy  captain. 
"  Butts  to  the  front  !  Strike  ! " 

The  order  was  obeyed  with  the  greatest  alac- 
rity. Raising  a  yell,  the  boys  rushed  upon  the 
Indians,  and  if  the  latter  had  stood  their  ground, 
there  would  have  been  a  fight,  sure.  But  fortu- 
nately they  broke  and  ran.  The  captain  followed 
them  as  far  as  the  gate,  and  then  drawing  his 
men  up  in  platoon  front,  opened  a  hot  fire  of 
blank  cartridges  on  the  bridge. 

"Veil  done,  Captain  Bumroy,"  said  the  Ger- 
man professor,  who  had  kept  a  sharp  eye  on  the 
whole  proceeding.  "  Veil  done.  Von  you  been  in 
my  good  Brussia  and  fights  like  dot  in  a  true 
pat  tie,  you  gets  a  decoration  from  the  Emperor. 


A   NIGHT   ATTACK.  255 

Aha !  Now  stay  here,  and  don't  let  them  red 
fellows  come  in  some  more." 

Meanwhile  the  rest  of  the  battalion  had  not 
been  idle.  The  battery  had  been  in  almost  con- 
stant use  ;  the  first  platoon  of  the  second  com- 
pany had  successfully  defended  the  south  gate  ; 
and  the  second  platoon,  assisted  by  the  third 
company,  had  held  the  rest  of  the  works,  repuls- 
ing every  charge  that  had  been  made  upon  them. 
The  artillery  roared,  small  arms  popped,  the 
threatening  war-whoops  of  the  Indians  were  an- 
swered by  yells  of  defiance  from  the  boy  soldiers — 
in  short,  there  was  nothing  wanting  to  make  a 
real  fight  of  it  except  bullets  and  bayonets.  This 
state  of  affairs  continued  for  half  an  hour,  during 
which  the  different  companies  were  handled  just 
as  they  would  have  been  in  action,  and  then  the 
firing  ceased  as  suddenly  as  it  had  begun.  The 
battle  was  over.  Just  then  an  orderly  from  head- 
quarters stepped  up  and  saluted  Captain  Pomeroy. 

"  The  superintendent  presents  his  compliments 
and  requests  that  you  will  keep  a  lookout  for  a 
delegation  from  the  Indian  camp,"  said  he. 
"  Should  any  appear,  you  will  receive  it  and  send 
it  to  the  big  tent  under  guard." 


256  DON   GORDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX. 

The  young  captain  at  once  detailed  a  corporal's 
guard  to  wait  at  the  bridge  and  escort  the  ex- 
pected delegation  inside  the  lines  ;  and  scarcely 
had  the  squad  disappeared  before  it  came  in 
again,  accompanied  by  half  a  dozen  stately  In- 
dians, who  were  closely  wrapped  up  in  their 
blankets.  They  were  fine-looking  fellows,  in  spite 
of  their  feathers  and  paint,  and  if  they  had  been 
entering  a  hostile  camp  they  could  not  have 
behaved  with  more  dignity  and  seriousness. 

"What  do  you  want?"  demanded  Captain 
Pomeroy. 

"  Want  to  see  big  chief,"  grunted  one  of  the 
Indians,  in  reply. 

"  Have  you  any  weapons  about  you  ?  "  inquired 
the  captain,  recalling  the  stratagem  to  which  Pon- 
tiac  resorted  when  he  tried  to  capture  Detroit. 

The  Indians  shook  their  heads,  but  the  captain, 
as  in  duty  bound,  ordered  them  to  be  searched  ; 
after  which  he  told  his  first  lieutenant  to  take 
command  of  the  squad,  and  to  conduct  the  visitors 
to  the  big  tent.  Then,  as  there  was  no  danger  to 
be  apprehended  so  long  as  the  delegation  was  in 
camp,  he  placed  a  guard  at  the  gate,  and  allowed 
the  rest  of  his  men  to  stack  arms  and  sit  down  on 


A   NIGHT    ATTACK.  257 

the  grass.  At  the  end  of  half  an  hour,  two  of  the 
Indians  came  back,  guarded  by  the  lieutenant  and 
his  squad,  and  accompanied  by  the  officer  of  the 
day. 

"Captain  Pomeroy,"  said  the  latter,  "pass 
these  two  chiefs,  and  stand  ready  to  receive  them 
when  they  return." 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  replied  the  captain.  "  What 
did  they  do  in  the  big  tent,  Perkins  ?"  he  asked 
of  his  lieutenant,  as  soon  as  the  officer  of  the  day 
had  retired  ;  "  and  who  are  they,  any  way  ?  " 

"Why,  they  are  Mount  Pleasant  Indians,"  an- 
swered the  lieutenant,  who,  during  his  absence, 
had  had  opportunity  to  talk  with  some  of  the 
boys  in  the  first  class  who  knew  all  about  the 
matter.  "  They  are  principally  farmers  and  me- 
chanics ;  but  there  are  one  or  two  professional  men 
among  them — school  teachers  and  the  like." 

"  Well,  I  declare  ! "  exclaimed  the  captain. 
"They  haven't  forgotten  how  to  give  the  war- 
whoop  if  they  are  civilized,  have  they  ?  Of  course 
this  night's  work  was  a  put-up  job  ?  " 

"  Certainly  it  was.  The  superintendent  wanted 
to  do  something  to  amuse  us,  so  he  went  out  to 
their  reservation,  which  is  about  twenty  miles  from 


258  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX, 

here,  and  easily  induced  the  head-chief  to  promise 
to  bring  in  three  hundred  of  his  young  men  on  a 
certain  night  and  make  an  attack  on  us.  Then  he 
wrote  to  our  parents  ;  and  that's  what  brought 
this  crowd  here  to-day." 

"  Ah  !  That  explains  it.  But  they  didn't 
know  anything  about  it,  for  I  noticed  that  some 
of  them  were  as  frightened  as  we  were.  Didn't 
you  hear  the  women  scream  ?  I  thought  the 
girl  I  was  dancing  with  was  going  to  faint,  she 
turned  so  white.  What  did  they  do  in  the  big 
tent  ?  " 

"  0,  they  held  a  pow-wow  there  in  the  presence 
of  all  our  guests,  smoking  a  pipe  and  going 
through  all  the  motions  of  a  regular  Indian  peace 
commission.  The  chief  made  a  speech  (I  tell 
you  it  was  a  good  one  and  astonished  everybody^, 
during  which  he  said  that  his  young  men  had 
taken  some  prisoners  \vhom  he  would  be  happy  to 
surrender " 

"  Prisoners  ! "  repeated  the  captain,  incred- 
ulously. 

"  Yes.  Eight  of  the  first-class  boys  are  miss- 
ing. You  see  this  company  was  thrown  into  con- 
fusion when  they  fell  back  from  the  bridge,  and 


A   NIGHT   ATTACK.  259 

as  soon  as  they  became  separated,  the  Indians 
jumped  in  and  dragged  some  of  them  off." 

"  Well,  they  didn't  serve  me  that  way,"  said 
Captain  Pomeroy,  with  an  air  of  triumph.  "  They 
had  the  impudence  to  try  to  steal  my  boys'  tents  ; 
but  when  we  turned  butts  to  the  front,  didn't  they 
dig  out  in  a  hurry  ?  " 

Lieutenant  Perkins,  who  had  borne  his  full 
part  in  that  gallant  charge,  said  he  thought  they 
did. 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

"WELL,  what  did  the  chief  say  about  the 
prisoners  ?  "  asked  Captain  Pomeroy,  after 
a  moment's  pause. 

"0,  he  went  through  the  usual  formula/' 
answered  Lieutenant  Perkins.  "  He  said  he 
would  be  happy  to  surrender  his  captives  if  the 
white  chief  would  give  him  and  his  warriors 
presents  enough  to  make  it  an  object  for  him  to 
do  so.  The  superintendent  said  he  wouldn't  do 
that,  but  if  the  chief  would  give  up  the  prisoners 
and  come  into  camp  to-morrow  afternoon  and 
dance  for  us,  he  would  furnish  him  and  his 
warriors  with  all  the  grub  they  could  eat.  The 
chief  finally  accepted  the  offer,  and  those  two 
Indians  who  went  out  a  little  while  ago  are  to 
bring  in  the  captives." 

"  Who  comes  there  ?  "  shouted  the  sentry  at 
the  bridge. 


DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX.  261 

"  There  they  are  now,"  exclaimed  the  lieuten- 
ant. "  Corporal,  go  out  there." 

The  corporal  went,  and  presently  returned 
accompanied  by  the  two  Indians  and  ten  prisoners 
instead  of  eight.  Bert  and  his  companions  moved 
up  close  to  the  gate  to  see  who  the  prisoners  were, 
and  the  former  was  astonished  beyond  measure  to 
find  that  his  brother  and  Sergeant  Egan  were  march- 
ing with  the  squad.  The  boys  wanted  to  laugh 
at  them,  but  they  were  on  duty,  and  they  knew 
that  such  a  breach  of  discipline  would  not  be 
allowed.  Led  by  Lieutenant  Perkins  and  his 
squad,  they  were  marched  to  the  big  tent,  where 
the  ceremony  of  surrendering  them  was  gone 
through  with  ;  after  which  the  Indian  delegation 
was  escorted  out  of  the  camp,  Captain  Pomeroy 
and  his  men  were  ordered  to  their  quarters,  the 
sentries  were  posted,  the  ranks  broken,  and  all  the 
young  soldiers  who  were  oif  duty  flocked  into  the 
big  tent  to  talk  over  the  incidents  of  the  fight 
with  their  guests.  Bert  quickly  found  his  way  to 
a  merry  group  consisting  of  his  father,  mother 
and  brother,  and  Egan,  Hopkins  and  Curtis,  with 
their  fathers  and  mothers,  all  of  whom  were 
listening  with  interest  to  what  the  deserters  had 


262  DON    GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

to  say  regarding  their  experience  among  the 
Indians.  When  they  had  finished  their  story 
General  Gordon  said  : — 

"  You  missed  it,  boys.  The  members  of  your 
company  covered  themselves  with  glory  and  you 
have  no  share  in  it.  The  first  company  was  so 
badly  demoralized  by  the  very  first  charge  the 
Indians  made  that  they  couldn't  be  rallied  ;  while 
Pomeroy,  with  his  raw  recruits,  as  you  might  call 
them,  drove  the  enemy  from  the  field  and  saved 
the  tents  from  capture." 

"It  was  really  thrilling,  Mr.  Gordon,"  said 
Egan's  pretty  sister,  to  whom  Don  had  just  been 
introduced,  "and  I  never  before  was  so  badly 
frightened.  We  were  not  expecting  anything  of 
the  kind,  you  know,  and  I  could  not  imagine 
what  the  matter  was." 

"I  wouldn't  have  had  those  Indians  get  their 
hands  on  us  for  anything,"  exclaimed  Egan,  who 
seemed  to  take  the  matter  very  much  to  heart. 
"  I  knew  the  fight  was  coming,  and  I  wanted  veiy 
much  to  take  part  in  it.  Well,  it  serves  me  right 
for  deserting  when  I  ought  to  have  stayed  in 
camp." 

It  was  growing  late  now — so  late   that    the 


DON  GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX.  263 

dancing  was  not  resumed.  The  carriages,  which 
had  been  ordered  for  eleven  o'clock,  began  to 
arrive  and  the  guests  to  take  their  departure 
for  Bridgeport,  whose  two  hotels  and  numerous 
boarding-houses  were  taxed  to  the  utmost  to  find 
room  for  them. 

The  next  morning  passes  were  granted  by 
wholesale,  and  every  boy  who  was  able  to  secure 
one  started  at  once  for  the  Indian  camp,  which 
was  located  in  a  deep  ravine  about  a  mile  away. 
The  young  braves  drove  a  thriving  trade  in  bows 
and  arrows,  and  earned  a  snug  sum  of  pocket 
money  by  shooting  dimes  and  quarters  out  of  split 
sticks  ;  while  the  squaws  sold  moccasins,  beaded 
purses  and  miniature  birch-bark  canoes  by  the 
bushel.  At  one  o'clock  the  big  tent  was  again 
crowded  with  guests,  and  an  hour  later  the  Indian 
warriors,  who  were  all  armed  and  freshly  painted, 
filed  silently  into  the  works.  The  entertainment 
that  followed,  and  which  was  much  better  than 
some  the  boys  had  paid  twenty-five  cents  to  wit- 
ness, included  the  corn-dance,  hunting-dance, 
war-dance  and  a  scalping  scene.  By  the  time  it 
was  ended  dinner  had  been  served  in  the  big  tent. 
After  the  dancers  had  done  full  justice  to  it,  and 


264       DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

had  exchanged  courtesies  with  their  late  antago- 
nists by  giving  an  ear-splitting  war-whoop  in 
return  for  their  three  cheers  and  a  tiger,  they  filed 
out  of  the  works  as  silently  as  they  had  come  into 
them,  and  the  students  once  more  settled  down  to 
business. 

There  were  no  more  desertions  after  that. 
Borne  of  their  friends  came  to  see  them  every  day, 
and  as  there  were  many  veterans  among  them 
who  watched  their  movements  with  a  critical  eye, 
of  course  the  boys  were  careful  to  perform  all 
their  duties  in  a  prompt  and  soldier-like  manner. 
In  due  time  the  camp  was  broken  and  the  stu- 
dents marched  back  to  the  academy,  which  during 
their  absence  had  been  thoroughly  renovated. 
The  examination  was  held,  the  members  of  the 
first  class  received  their  degrees  and  new  officers 
were  appointed  for  the  coming  year.  Among  the 
latter  were  Bert  Gordon  and  Sam  Arkwright — • 
the  former  being  made  first  sergeant  of  the  fourth 
company,  which  was  yet  to  be  organized,  and  the 
other  receiving  a  warrant  as  second  corporal. 
Don  Gordon  stood  head  and  shoulders  above 
everybody  in  his  class,  and  the  only  thing  that 
prevented  him  from  being  commissioned  lieuten- 


DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX.  265 

ant  of  the  new  company  was  his  record  as  a 
soldier,  which,  as  we  know,  was  by  no  means 
perfect. 

Contrary  to  Dick  Henderson's  prediction,  the 
school  had  not  been  disgraced  by  the  presence 
of  the  New  York  boot-black.  Its  popularity 
seemed  to  be  increasing,  for  the  number  of  those 
who  applied  for  admission  was  greater  than  it  had 
ever  been  before  ;  and  when  the  examination  was 
over,  Bert  found  that  he  had  a  hundred  and  ten 
names  on  his  company  roster.  Dick  would  not 
have  made  such  a  prediction  now,  for  he  was  dif- 
t  ferent  in  every  way  from  the  boy  we  introduced 
to  the  reader  at  the  beginning  of  this  story. 
Having  got  out  from  under  Clarence  Duncan's 
baneful  influence,  and  having  Don  Gordon's 
example  and  Tom  Fisher's  to  encourage  him, 
he  was  in  a  fair  way  to  make  a  man  of  him- 
self. 

At  length  the  exercises  were  all  ended,  and  one 
bright  morning  Hopkins,  Egan  and  Curtis  took 
leave  of  their  friends,  and  in  company  with  Don 
and  Bert  Gordon  and  their  parents,  set  out  for 
Rochdale.  They  went  fully  prepared  to  enjoy 
themselves.  As  soon  as  it  was  settled  that  they 


266  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

were  to  go  home  with  the  Gordons,  they  had 
written  for  their  hunting  rigs,  which  were  duly 
forwarded  to  them.  Walter  Curtis' s  favorite,  in 
fact  his  only,  weapon,  was  a  light  Stevens  rifle, 
with  which  he  had  broken  twenty-three  out  of 
twenty-five  feather-filled  glass  balls  thrown  from 
a  revolving  trap.  Hopkins  took  pride  in  a  short 
double-barrel  shotgun,  of  large  calibre,  that  he  had 
often  used  on  horseback  while  following  deer  and 
foxes  to  the  music  of  the  hounds  ;  while  Egan, 
who  lived  on  the  Eastern  Shore  of  Maryland, 
where  canvas-backs  and  red-heads  abound,  put  all 
his  faith  in  a  ponderous  ten-gauge  Parker,  which 
was  so  heavy  that  Don  Gordon,  strong  and  endur- 
ing as  he  was,  declared  that  he  wouldn't  carry  it 
all  day  through  the  woods  if  his  friend  Egan 
would  make  him  a  present  of  it. 

"  Neither  would  I,"  chimed  in  Hopkins. 

"  You  ! "  exclaimed  Egan,  standing  off  and 
looking  at  the  speaker's  rotund  figure.  "  You'd 
look  nice  starting  out  for  an  all-day  tramp,  you 
would.  Your  legs  are  too  short,  and  you  carry 
too  much  weight  around  with  you.  You  would 
get  out  of  breath  before  you  had  gone  half  a  mile. 
But  as  I  am  not  going  to  Mississippi  after  squir- 


DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX.          267 

rels,  I  don't  intend  to  tramp  about  the  woods. 
Gordon  promised  me  some  duck-shooting." 

"As  for  myself/'  Curtis  remarked,  "I  always 
did  despise  a  scatter-gun.  A  blind  man  ought  to 
be  able  to  hit  a  duck  by  sending  a  pound  or  two 
of  shot  at  him " 

"  Well,  it's  not  so  easy,  either,"  interrupted 
Egan.  "  A  duck,  when  flying  down  wind,  moves 
at  the  rate  of  ninety  miles  an  hour,  old  fellow,  and 
it  takes  the  best  kind  of  a  marksman  to  make  a 
good  bag." 

"A  true  sportsman  never  prides  himself  upon 
the  number  of  birds  he  kills,  but  upon  the  supe- 
riority of  his  shots,"  said  Curtis.  "  When  you 
can  strike  a  rapidly  moving  object  with  a  single 
ball  from  a  rifle,  then  you  can  boast  of  your  skill." 

During  the  journey  down  the  Mississippi  the 
boys  were  on  deck  almost  all  the  time,  listening 
to  Don,  who  pointed  out  the  various  places  of  in- 
terest along  the  route,  adding  some  entertaining 
scraps  of  the  history  of  each.  Over  there,  on  the 
right  bank,  he  said,  was  the  battle-field  of  Bel- 
mont ;  and  on  the  opposite  shore  was  Columbus, 
from  which  came  the  Confederate  reinforcements 
that  had  turned  the  Union  victory  into  defeat. 


268  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

This  was  Island  No.  10,  where  the  gunboat  Cin- 
cinnati distinguished  herself  by  running  the  bat- 
teries, and  a  young  master's  mate,  afterward  the 
brave  commander  of  the  Champion,  won  his 
shoulder-straps  by  going  ashore  with  a  boat's 
crew,  spiking  some  of  the  guns,  and  bringing  off 
the  wipers  and  spongers  that  belonged  to  them. 
Over  there  on  the  bluff  was  Fort  Pillow,  where 
that  terrible  massacre  took  place  under  Forrest  ; 
and  this  was  Memphis,  the  scene  of  the  fight 
between  the  Union  and  Confederate  fleets,  which 
resulted  in  the  utter  defeat  of  the  latter,  and  in 
the  capture  of  the  Bragg,  Price,  and  Little  Rebel. 
This  was  Yazoo  river.  It  was  here  that  the  Con- 
federate ram  Arkansas,  after  eluding  the  Cincin- 
nati and  whipping  the  Tyler,  ran  the  fire  of  the 
whole  Union  fleet  and  took  refuge  under  the  guns 
of  Vicksburg.  Having  been  repaired  she  started 
down  the  river  to  raise  the  siege  of  Port  Hudson, 
but  was  met  and  destroyed  by  a  single  Union 
gunboat,  the  Essex,  under  command  of  Captain 
Porter.  And  here  was  Rochdale  at  last.  It  had 
a  history  too,  Don  said,  and  he  promised  that  he 
would  relate  it  when  they  reached  the  shooting- 
box. 


DON    GORDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX.  269 

Egan  and  Hopkins  were  Southern  boys,  and 
consequently  life  on  a  plantation  was  not  new  to 
them  ;  but  Curtis,  who  was  from  New  England, 
found  much  to  interest  him,  and  showed  himself 
to  be  a  true  Yankee  by  asking  a  thousand  and 
one  questions  about  everything  he  saw.  Hopkins's 
first  exploit  was  riding  a  kicking  mule  that  Fred 
and  Joe  Packard  brought  out  for  him  to  try  his 
skill  upon.  To  the  surprise  of  everybody  Hopkins 
mounted  in  regular  Texas  style,  placing  his  left 
hand  on  the  mule's  shoulder  and  throwing  his 
right  leg  over  his  back.  The  moment  he  was 
firmly  settled,  his  appearance  changed  as  if  by 
magic.  His  seat  was  easy  and  graceful,  and  he 
kept  his  place  on  that  mule's  back  with  as  little 
trouble  as  he  would  have  kept  his  place  in  a  rock- 
ing chair.  The  animal  could  not  move  him  an 
inch  with  all  his  kicking  and  plunging.  The  per- 
formance effectually  silenced  Egan,  who  was  him- 
self a  fine  horseman,  and  he  never  had  anything 
to  say  about  Hopkins's  riding  after  that. 

The  ducks,  geese,  swans,  and  brant  were  already 
beginning  to  come  into  the  lake,  and  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  third  day  following  their  arrival  at  the 
plantation,  the  young  hunters,  Fred  and  Joe 


270  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

Packard  being  included  among  the  number,  made 
ready  to  take  up  their  abode  at  the  shooting-box. 
The  canoe  and  sail-boat,  both  of  which  had  been 
securely  housed  during  the  absence  of  their 
owners,  were  put  into  the  water  and  loaded  to 
their  utmost  capacity  with  bedding,  provisions, 
and  camp  furniture.  There  was  just  room  enough 
left  in  the  canoe  to  accommodate  old  Cuff,  the 
negro  who  was  to  act  as  cook  and  camp-keeper 
during  their  sojourn  at  the  shooting-box ;  and 
when  all  the  boys  and  Don's  two  pointers  had 
crowded  into  the  sail-boat,  the  little  craft  seemed 
on  the  point  of  sinking.  As  an  Irishman  would 
have  remarked,  if  the  water  in  the  lake  had  been 
two  inches  higher,  she  would  have  gone  to  the 
bottom  beyond  a  doubt. 

"  We've  got  about  three  hundred  pounds  too 
much  cargo  aboard,"  said  Curtis,  in  his  quiet  way. 
"  Hop,  suppose  you  get  out  and  go  afoot ;  there's 
a  good  fellow." 

"  Make  Egan  throw  his  artillery  overboard  and 
we  shall  get  on  well  enough,"  retorted  Hopkins. 
"  That's  what  makes  the  boat  sink  so  deep  in  the 
water." 

With  much  fun  and  chaffing  the  boys  pulled 


DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX.       271 

toward  the  point  on  which  the  shooting-box  was 
located,  and  by  handling  their  heavily  loaded  craft 
in  the  most  careful  manner,  they  succeeded  in 
beaching  her  in  safety.  As  her  bow  touched  the 
shore,  old  Cuff,  who  landed  at  the  same  moment, 
uttered  an  exclamation  indicative  of  the  greatest 
astonishment.  Don  looked  up  and  saw  that  the 
shooting-box  was  already  occupied.  A  smoke  was 
curling  out  of  the  stove-pipe  that  served  for  a 
chimney,  and  a  rough-looking  man,  dressed  in  a 
tattered  suit  of  brown  jeans,  stood  in  front  of  the 
open  door,  leaning  on  his  axe.  From  the  cabin 
there  came  the  sound  of  voices  mingled  with  an- 
other sound  that  made  old  Cuff  almost  ready  to 
boil  over  with  indignation. 

"'Fore  Moses,  Mr.  Don,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Somebody  in  dar  crackin'  all  de  nuts  dat  I  done 
pick  up  for  you  an'  your  frien's." 

"We'll  soon  put  a  stop  to  that,"  answered 
Don.  "  Those  people,  whoever  they  are,  have  no 
business  in  there,  and  they  must  get  out  at  once." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  impudence  ?  " 
exclaimed  Bert,  angrily.  "  Where  did  they  come 
from,  anyhow  ?  They  don't  belong  in  this  part 
of  the  country." 


272  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

The  man  with  the  axe  seemed  as  much  sur- 
prised to  see  Don  and  his  party  as  the  latter  were 
to  see  him.  He  too  uttered  an  exclamation  which 
brought  to  the  door  the  other  occupants  of  the 
cabin,  seven  of  them  in  all,  including  two  more 
men  and  three  women ;  and  very  disreputable 
looking  persons  the  most  of  them  were.  The 
other  two,  one  of  whom  seemed  to  be  entirely  out 
of  place  there,  did  not  show  themselves  at  the 
door  as  openly  as  their  companions  did,  and  con- 
sequently Don  and  Bert  did  not  see  them.  They 
thrust  their  heads  out  very  cautiously,  and  as 
soon  as  they  saw  who  the  new-comers  were,  they 
drew  back  and  made  all  haste  to  effect  their 
escape  through  the  window  on  the  other  side  of 
the  cabin.  By  keeping  the  building  between 
themselves  and  the  beach  they  managed  to  reach 
the  cover  of  the  woods  without  being  observed, 
Don  and  Bert  would  have  been  very  much  sur- 
prised if  they  had  seen  them,  for  they  were  our 
old  acquaintances  Lester  Brigham  and  Dan 
Evans.  They  \vere  now  almost  constant  compan- 
ions ;  and  how  they  came  to  be  so  shall  be  told 
further  on. 

"  What  do  you  want  here  ? "    demanded  the 


r. 


DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX.  273 

man  with  the  axe,  as  Don  walked  up  the  bank 
followed  by  his  companions. 

"  I  think  that  is  a  proper  question  for  me  to 
ask  you/'  replied  Don,  who  did  not  at  all  like  the 
surly  tone  in  which  he  had  been  addressed. 
"  This  house  belongs  to  my  brother  and  myself, 
and  we  would  thank  you  to  vacate  it  without 
the  loss  of  a  moment." 

"  Wai,  I  reckon  we  shall  do  as  we  please  about 
that,"  drawled  one  of  the  men  who  stood  in  the 
door. 

"  Well,  I  reckon  you  won't.  You'll  do  as  I 
please  about  it.  I  want  possession  here,  and  I 
want  it  now.  I  see  you  broke  the  lock  in  order 
to  gain  admittance,  and  you  had  no  business  to 
do  that." 

"  Do  you  live  here  ?  "  asked  the  man  with  the 
axe. 

"  I'm  going  to  live  here." 

"Wai,  thar's  two  rooms  in  the  shantee,  an' 
why  can't  you-uns  take  one  of  'em  an'  let 
we-uns " 

"  We  don't  want  company,"  exclaimed  Don, 
who  was  fairly  staggered  by  the  proposition. 
"  We  want  you  to  clear  out  bag  and  baggage, 


274          DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

and  to  be  quick  about  it,  too.  My  father  is  a 
magistrate,  and  this  shootiug-box  is  on  his  land." 

The  word  "magistrate"  had  a  magical  effect 
upon  the  members  of  the  dirty  group  in  the  door- 
way. It  put  life  into  them,  and  at  the  same  time 
set  the  women's  tongues  in  motion.  They  began 
packing  up  their  scanty  belongings,  declaring, 
with  much  vociferation,  that  it  was  a  sin  and  a 
shame  that  they  should  be  turned  out  of  such 
snug  quarters  just  to  accommodate  the  whims  of 
a  party  of  young  aristocrats  who  wanted  to  come 
there  and  shoot  a  few  ducks.  Why  couldn't  they 
go  elsewhere  for  their  ducks  and  leave  honest 
people  alone  ?  That  was  always  the  way  with 
rich  folks.  They  didn't  care  how  others  suffered 
so  long  as  they  had  their  own  pleasure.  But  it 
was  a  great  comfort  to  know  that  it  wouldn't 
always  be  so.  There  was  a  time  coming,  and  it 
wasn't  so  very  far  distant  either,  when  rich  folks 
would  be  required  to  give  up  some  of  their  ill- 
gotten  gains. 

"  That  sounds  like  communism,  doesn't  it  ?  " 
said  Curtis. 

"  Yes  ;  and  that  sounds  very  much  like  incen- 
diarism," answered  Hopkins  ;  and  so  it  did,  for 


DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX.  275 

just  then  one  of  the  men  in  the  cabin  was  heard 
to  say  : — 

"  Never  mind,  Luke.  The  old  shantee  is  dry 
an'  fire  '11  burn  it." 

'•  Let  them  burn  it  if  they  dare,"  said  Bert,  his 
slight  form  swelling  with  indignation.  "  I 
wouldn't  give  a  picayune  for  the  life  of  the  person 
who  attempts  it.  Cuff,"  he  added,  turning  to  the 
negro,  "as  soon  as  we  get  things  straightened 
up  here,  I  want  you  to  go  back  to  the  plantation 
after  Don's  hounds.  It  looks  now  as  though  we 
should  need  them." 

The  tramps,  if  such  they  were,  seemed  to  be 
in  no  hurry  to  leave  the  shooting-box.  They 
bundled  up  their  goods  with  great  deliberation, 
abusing  the  boys  roundly  all  the  while,  and 
finally  came  out  and  turned  their  faces  toward 
the  river.  As  soon  as  they  were  out  of  sight 
Don  and  Bert  began  an  investigation  of  the 
premises.  The  cabin  looked  as  though  it  had 
been  occupied  for  a  long  time.  The  wood  which 
they  had  provided  for  their  own  use  was  all  gone, 
the  stove  had  been  copiously  bedewed  with 
tobacco  juice,  the  floor  was  littered  with  nut- 
shells, and  everything  was  dingy  and  smoky. 


276  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  We  can't  live  in  any  such  looking  hole  as 
this,"  said  Don,  in  deep  disgust.  "Cuff,  build 
up  a  good  fire,  put  on  the  kettle  and  scrub  out. 
Let's  have  things  neat  and  clean,  as  they  used  to 
be.  Bert,  suppose  you  take  somebody  with  you 
and  watch  those  people  and  see  where  they  go. ' 

Bert  at  once  started  off  with  Hopkins  for  a 
companion,  and  while  they  were  gone  the  others 
employed  themselves  in  setting  things  to  rights. 
The  bones,  squirrel  skins  and  turkey  feathers  that 
were  scattered  about  in  front  of  the  door  were 
raked  into  a  pile  and  set  on  fire  ;  a  fresh  supply 
of  stove-wood  was  cut  ;  and  the  boats  were 
unloaded  and  their  cargoes  piled  up  outside  of 
the  cabin  in  readiness  to  be  transferred  to  the 
interior  as  soon  as  the  purifying  process  had  been 
completed.  By  the  time  this  work  was  done  Bert 
and  Hopkins  came  back. 

"  They're  n.  g.  on  the  books — no  good,"  said 
the  former.  "  They  have  a  little  house-boat  in 
the  river " 

"  That's  all  we  want  to  know,"  interrupted 
Don.  "They  are  thieves  and  vagabonds  of  the 
first  water." 

"  What  makes  you  say  that  ?  "  asked  Curtis. 


DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING  BOX.      277 

"  What's  a  house-boat  ?  "  inquired  Egun. 

"  I  will  answer  the  last  question  first,"  eaid 
Don.  "  A  house-boat  is  simply  a  scow  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  feet  long  and  six  or  eight  feet  wide 
with  a  cabin  amidships.  This  cabin  takes  up  the 
whole  of  the  boat  with  the  exception  of  two  or 
three  feet  at  each  end,  where  the  crew  stand  when 
they  are  handling  the  lines  and  the  steering  oar. 
These  boats  are  generally  the  property  of  fisher- 
men and  hunters,  who  float  about  looking  for  a 
suitable  place  to  ply  their  occupation.  For 
example,  there  is  a  house-boat  in  the  bayou  above 
Mound  City — that's  in  Illinois,  you  know — which 
has  been  there  four  or  five  years,  its  solitary 
occupant  making  a  good  living  by  trapping  minks 
and  raccoons  in  the  winter,  and  catching  buffalo 
and  catfish  the  rest  of  the  year." 

"  Buffalo  !  "  repeated  Egan. 

"  Yes.     I  didn't  say  bison." 

"  What's  the  difference  ?  "  asked  Hopkins,  who, 
although  he  was  a  splendid  fox-hunter,  was  not 
very  well  posted  in  natural  history." 

"  There's  a  good  deal  of  difference,  the  first 
thing  you  know.  A  buffalo  is  a  fish,  somewhat 
resembling  a  black-bass  in  shape,  but  possessing 


278  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

none  of  his  game  qualities,  while  a  bison  is  an 
animal." 

"  But  there  are  such  animals  as  buffaloes/'  said 
Egan. 

"  Yes,  in  Africa  and  Asia,  but  not  in  this  coun- 
try. There  are  no  partridges,  pheasants,  or  wild 
rabbits  here,  either.  As  I  was  going  on  to  say, 
this  man  will  probably  stay  at  Mound  City  until 
the  fish  and  game  begin  to  grow  scarce,  and  then 
he  will  paddle  his  boat  out  into  the  current  and 
float  down  the  river  until  he  finds  another  place 
that  suits  him.  If  he  gets  hard  up  for  grub,  he 
will  not  hesitate  to  visit  anybody's  corn-field, 
potato-patch,  or  hen-roost." 

"No  honest,  industrious  man  ever  lives  in  that 
way,"  said  Bert.  "  The  planters  along  the  river 
are  suspicious  of  these  house-boats,  and  when  they 
find  one  tied  up  on  their  premises,  they  always 
order  it  off." 

"  If  these  people  had  a  shelter  of  their  own, 
why  did  they  take  possession  of  your  shooting- 
box?"  asked  Egan. 

"  0,  for  the  sake  of  variety,  probably,"  answered 
Don.  ''Perhaps  their  house  was  too  small  for 
them  ;  or  it  may  be  that  the  roof  leaked,  or  that 


DON   GORDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX.  279 

tbe  scow  was  full  of  water.     They  always  like  to 
live  ashore  when  they  have  the  chance." 

There  was  much  to  be  done  about  the  shooting- 
box,  and  the  boys  were  kept  busy  all  the  forenoon. 
Old  Cuff  grumbled  lustily  while  he  scrubbed, 
declaring  over  and  over  again  that  Don  ought  to 
set  fire  to  the  cabin  and  destroy  it,  for  it  never 
could  be  made  fit  for  white  folks  to  live  in  again. 
After  eating  a  substantial  lunch,  which  was  served 
under  the  trees,  Egan,  Hopkins,  and  Curtis  took 
their  guns,  and,  accompanied  by  Bert  and  Fred 
Packard,  strolled  along  the  shore  of  the  lake  to 
see  if  they  could  find  anything  for  supper,  while 
Don  and  Joe  remained  behind  to  assist  Cuff  at 
his  work.  When  Egan  and  Curtis  returned  at 
dark,  they  declared  that  they  were  more  than  sat- 
isfied with  their  prospects  for  sport.  The  lower 
end  of  the  lake  was  full  of  ducks,  they  said,  and 
Egan  had  astonished  his-  companions  by  bringing 
fourteen  of  them  down  with  a  single  discharge  of 
his  heavy  double-barrel,  while  Curtis  had  showed 
his  skill  with  the  rifle  by  shooting  four  ducks  on 
the  wing,  and  killing  a  swan  at  the  distance  of 
more  than  two  hundred  yards.  They  were  tired 
as  well  as  hungry,  and  glad  to  see  the  inside  of 


280  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

the  shooting-box,  which  did  not  look  now  as  it 
did  when  they  first  came  there  in  the  morning.  A 
cheerful  fire  was  burning  in  the  stove,  which  had 
been  blacked  and  polished  until  one  could  almost 
see  his  face  in  it ;  the  room  was  brilliantly  lighted 
by  two  lamps  that  were  suspended  from  the  ceil- 
ing ;  the  floor  was  covered  with  rugs  ;  pictures 
of  hunting  and  fishing  scenes  adorned  the  walls, 
and  camp  chairs  and  stools  were  scattered  about. 

In  the  next  apartment,  which  was  used  princi- 
pally as  a  sleeping  and  sitting-room,  the  same 
scene  of  neatness  and  order  was  presented.  The 
wide  fire-place,  which  occupied  nearly  the  whole 
of  one  end  of  it,  was  piled  high  with  blazing  logs, 
and  comfortable  beds  were  made  up  in  the  bunks. 
There  were  pictures  on  the  walls  of  this  room 
also,  rugs  on  the  floor  (some  of  these  rugs  at  once 
attracted  the  attention  of  Egan  and  his  friends, 
for  they  were  made  of  the  skins  of  bears  and  deer 
that  had  fallen  to  Don's  rifle),  and  there  were 
camp-chairs  enough  to  accommodate  all  the  boys 
that  could  crowd  about  the  fire-place.  The  room 
looked  cosey  and  comfortable,  and  the  visitors  no 
longer  wondered  why  it  was  that  Don  thought  so 
much  of  his  shooting-box. 


DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX.  281 

"I  am  going  to  have  one  of  my  own/'  said 
Curtis,  "  and  it  shall  be  modeled  after  this  one. 
I  shall  build  it  this  fall,  so  as  to  have  it  in  readi- 
ness to  receive  you  fellows  when  you  go  home  with 
me  next  vacation.  Now,  then,  where  are  those 
quails  that  Hop  brought  in  ?  Can  your  darkey 
serve  them  up  on  toast  in  good  shape  ?  " 

"  Of  course  he  can,"  answered  Don.  "  No  one 
can  do  it  better ;  but  Hop  hasn't  brought  in  any 
quails  yet.  Where  did  you  leave  him  ?  I  won- 
dered why  he  didn't  come  home  with  you." 

"  Hasn't  he  returned  ?"  exclaimed  Egan.  Then 
he's  lost.  We  haven't  seen  him  since  two  o'clock, 
when  he  coaxed  your  pointers  away  from  us — we 
owe  him  a  grudge  for  that,  for  we  wanted  the 
dogs  to  stay  by  us  and  retrieve  the  ducks  we  shot 
— and  went  over  into  a  field  after  a  flock  of  quails 
he  had  marked  down  there.  We  heard  him  shoot 
several  times  after  that,  and  as  he  is  a  good 
marksman,  we  made  up  our  minds  that  we  were 
to  have  quails  for  supper.  There  he  is  now," 
added  Egan,  as  an  impatient  yelp  sounded  at  the 
door. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  mistaken,"  replied  Don, 
and  the  sequel  proved  that  he  was  ;  for  just  then 


282  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

the  door  was  thrown  open,  and  Don's  hounds, 
which  Cuff,  in  obedience  to  Bert's  orders,  had 
brought  up  to  guard  the  shooting-box,  came 
bounding  in.  There  were  six  of  them,  and  the 
one  which  held  the  foremost  place  in  Don's  esti- 
mu  iou  was  Carlo,  the  dog  that  had  been  the  first 
to  respond  to  his  whistle  when  he  was  tied  up  in 
G(  ;i  >y  Evans's  potato-hole.  He  was  an  immense 
bn  e,  as  well  as  a  savage  one,  and  when  he  raised 
hh.nelf  on  his  hind  feet  and  placed  his  paws  on 
Don's  shoulders,  his  head  was  higher  than  his 
master's. 

"  We  will  keep  them  in  here  with  us  until  Hop 
comes ;  for  as  they  are  not  very  well  acquainted 
with  him,  they  might  object  to  his  coming  to  the 
house,"  said  Bert.  "  Now,  Cuff,  dish  up  a  couple 
of  those  ducks  in  your  very  best  style.  Be  in  a 
hurry,  for  we  are  hungry." 

Curtis  and  Egan,  having  exchanged  their  high- 
top  boots  for  easy-fitting  shoes,  and  their  heavy 
shooting-coats  for  others  of  lighter  material,  set 
to  work  to  clean  their  guns,  while  the  rest  of  the 
boys  drew  their  chairs  up  in  front  of  the  fire,  and 
asked  one  another  what  it  was  that  was  detaining 
Hopkins.  He  couldn't  get  lost ;  they  were  sure 


DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTIXG-BOX.  283 

of  that,  for  all  he  had  to  do  when  he  wanted  to 
come  home,  was  to  follow  the  shore  of  the  lake, 
and  he  would  find  the  shooting-box  without  the 
least  trouble. 

"  Do  you  suppose  he  would  be  in  any  danger 
from  those  vagabond  friends  of  ours,  if  he  should 
chance  to  stumble  upon  them  in  the  woods  ? " 
said  Curtis,  as  he  pointed  his  breech-loader  to- 
ward the  lamp  and  looked  through  the  barrel  to 
make  sure  that  it  was  perfectly  clean.  "I  must 
confess  that  I  didn't  quite  like  the  looks  of 
them." 

"  I  never  thought  of  them,"  said  Don,  jumping 
up  and  taking  his  double-barrel  down  from  the 
antlers  on  which  it  rested.  "  I  believe  he  would 
be  in  danger  if  he  should  meet  one  of  those 
fellows  in  the  woods,  for  he  wears  a  splendid  gold 
watch  and  chain,  and  I  noticed  that  the  man  who 
was  chopping  wood  when  we  came  here  this 
morning,  looked  at  the  chain  very  frequently.  I 
think  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to  signal  to  him."- 

"  Better  let  me  do  it,"  said  Egan.  "  He  can 
hear  my  gun  farther  than  he  can  yours." 

Accompanied  by  all  the  boys  Egan  went  out  on 
the  shore  of  the  lake  and  fired  both  barrels  of  his 


284      DON  GOKDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

heavy  piece  in  quick  succession ;  but  there  was 
no  response.  Again  and  again  the  duck-gun 
roared,  awaking  a  thousand  echoes  along  the 
shore,  but  still  the  missing  boy  did  not  reply. 
When  Egan  had  fired  away  all  the  cartridges  he 
had  brought  out  with  him,  the  boys  went  back 
into  the  cabin  and  sat  down  and  looked  at  one 
another.  They  began  to  fear  that  their  friend's 
ill-luck  had  followed  him  from  Bridgeport  to 
Rochdale,  and  that  he  had  got  himself  into  some 
kind  of  a  scrape. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

LESTER   BRIGHAM   MAKES   NEW   FRIENDS. 

"\T7"E  said  in  the  second  chapter  that  after  Bob 
Owens  ran  away  from  home  to  become  a 
hunter,  and  Godfrey  Evans  and  his  son  Dan  went 
to  work  to  earn  an  honest  living,  and  David  Evans 
became  mail  carrier,  and  Lester  Brigham  with- 
drew himself  from  the  society  of  the  boys  in  the 
neighborhood,  the  inhabitants  of  Rochdale  and 
the  surrounding  country  settled  back  into  their 
old  ways,  and  waited  for  something  to  happen 
that  would  create  an  excitement.  Unfortunately 
they  were  not  obliged  to  wait  long. 

After  one  has  spent  years  of  his  life  in  idleness, 
he  finds  it  an  exceedingly  difficult  task  to  turn 
over  a  new  leaf  and  make  a  radical  and  permanent 
change  in  his  whole  course  of  conduct,  and  Godfrey 
and  Dan  were  no  exceptions  to  this  rule.  So 
long  as  they  worked  for  General  Gordon,  who 
took  pains  to  keep  a  close  watch  over  them,  and 
to  encourage  them  by  every  means  in  his  power, 


286          DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

there  was  no  fault  to  be  found  with  them.  They 
labored  early  and  late  ;  Godfrey,  as  we  know, 
saving  enough  from  his  hard  earnings  to  refund 
the  money  of  which  he  had  robbed  Clarence 
Gordon  on  the  highway,  the  old  cabin  in  which 
they  lived  was  repaired  and  refurnished,  and 
everything  seemed  to  be  well  with  them  ;  but 
when  they  had  cut  all  the  wood  the  general  could 
use  that  year,  and  the  latter  went  away  on  busi- 
ness leaving  them  to  take  care  of  themselves,  the 
trouble  began.  They  made  a  few  feeble  attempts 
to  find  more  work,  and  in  their  efforts  to  do  so 
they  came  in  contact  with  the  professional  loafers 
about  the  landing,  whose  influence  over  them  was 
anything  but  beneficial.  The  majority  of  them 
spent  their  time  in  watching  the  steamboats, 
taking  part  in  shooting-matches  and  making  a 
pretense  of  hunting  and  trapping  for  a  livelihood  ; 
while  those  who  had  work,  and  were  able  to  pay 
for  having  it  done,  did  not  want  Godfrey  and 
D,m  to  do  it.  Mr.  Owens,  Bob's  father,  was 
mainly  responsible  for  this  state  of  affairs.  He 
had  not  yet  got  over  being  angry  at  General 
Gordon  for  putting  in  a  bid  for  the  mail-route 
when  he  wanted  it  himself,  and  he  never  allowed 


LESTER   BRIGHAM    MAKES   NEW   FRIENDS.    287 

an  opportunity  to  abuse  him  to  pass  unim- 
proved. 

"Gordon  seems  to  have  taken  Godfrey  and  his 
family  under  his  protecting  wing,  and  now  he  can 
provide  for  them  and  welcome,"  Mr.  Owens  often 
said.  "  I  want  some  wood  cut  the  worst  way, 
but  I'll  see  Godfrey  and  Dan  in  Jerusalem  before 
they  shall  have  the  job.  If  it  hadn't  been  for 
Gordon  I  might  have  had  my  boy  at  home  with 
me  now." 

"  Yes,  and  my  boy  would  not  have  been  obliged 
to  make  a  hermit  of  himself,"  Mr.  Brigham 
would  always  remark  when  he  heard  Mr.  Owens 
talking  in  this  way.  These  two  men  had  been 
rather  distant  toward  each  other  after  Mr.  Brig- 
ham's  refusal  to  go  on  Bob's  bond,  but  they  were 
firm  friends  now.  They  both  hated  General 
Gordon,  and  for  nearly  the  same  reason.  Mr. 
Brigham  had  come  to  Kochdale  with  the  idea 
that  his  money  would  at  once  make  him  the  head 
man  of  the  county  ;  but  in  this  he  was  most 
sadly  disappointed.  He  found  that  the  general 
was  worth  Just  as  much,  if  not  more  than  he  was  ; 
that  he  was  everybody's  friend  and  adviser,  a 
member  of  the  legislature  and  a  candidate  for 


288  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

governor,  and  that  it  would  be  of  no  use  for  any- 
body to  try  to  usurp  his  place.  That  was  the 
reason  he  didn't  want  the  general  to  have  the 
contract  for  carrying  the  mail ;  and  when  he 
learned  that  the  latter  had  influence  enough  to 
secure  it  without  any  of  his  help,  he  was  greatly 
enraged,  and  felt  quite  as  bitter  toward  his  rich 
neighbor  as  Bob's  father  did. 

"  Never  mind/'  said  Mr.  Owens.  "  It  is  a  long 
lane  that  has  no  turning,  and  we  shall  some  day 
be  able  to  get  square  with  Gordon  for  that  piece 
of  business.  Mark  my  words  :  David  Evans  will 
sooner  or  later  prove  himself  to  be  utterly 
unworthy  the  confidence  that  is  placed  in  him. 
It  can't  be  otherwise,  for  he  is " 

Mr.  Owens  was  about  to  add  that  David  was 
the  son  of  a  thief  as  well  as  the  brother  of  one  ; 
but  he  didn't  say  it,  for  he  recollected  in  time 
that  his  own  son  was  not  above  reproach — that  he 
had  left  Rochdale  having  in  his  possession  more 
than  a  hundred  and  sixty  dollars  that  did  not 
belong  to  him. 

"  Where  have  you  fellows  kept  yourselves  so 
long  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  loafers,  when  Godfrey 
and  Dan  once  more  made  their  appearance  at  the 


LESTER   BEIGHAM    MAKES   NEW   FRIENDS.     289 

landing,  carrying  their  rifles  on  their  shoulders  as 
in  the  days  gone  by.  "  Been  spendin'  some  of 
Dave's  money  in  a  tower  to  Europe  ?  0,  been 
cuttin'  wood  for  Gordon,  eh  ?  Well,  that's  what 
I  call  nigger's  work,  and  /  wouldn't  do  it  for  no 
'ristocrat.  It's  right  smart  easier  to  hunt  and 
trap.  There's  going  to  be  a  power  of  deer  and 
turkey  this  fall,  and  Silas  Jones  has  agreed  to  pay 
cash  for  all  I  can  bring  him.  He'd  be  willing  to 
make  the  same  bargain  with  you,  I  know,  for  he 
wants  all  he  can  get  to  ship  to  some  commission 
merchant  in  St.  Louis.  He  gives  eight  cents  a 
pound  for  the  deer,  and  sixty  cents  apiece  for  the 
turkeys." 

"  I'll  just  tell  ye  what's  the  gospel  truth,  Dan- 
nie," said  Godfrey,  after  some  of  his  old  friends 
had  talked  to  him  in  this  way  a  few  times.  "  I've 
got  just  as  much  right  to  hire  somebody  to  chop 
my  wood  as  Gordon  has,  an'  I  ain't  goin'  to  cut  no 
more  fur  him  nor  no  other  'ristocrat.  I'm  goiu' 
hun  tin'." 

"  So  be  I,"  said  Dan,  who  was  delighted  at  the 
prospect  of  going  back  to  his  old  way  of  living, 

"So  ye  shall,  Dannie.  We've  done  niggers' 
work  long  enough,  an'  now  we'll  be  gentlemen 


290  DON  GOBDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

agin,  like  we  used  to  be.  Thar  ain't  no  call  fur 
you  an'  me  to  work  so  hard  every  day,  when 
everybody  else  takes  it  so  easy  down  thar  at  the 
Inndin' ;  an'  we  won't  do  it,  neither.  Here's 
D.ive  makin'  a  power  of  money,  and  as  he  ain't 
of  age  yet,  every  cent  he  'arns  ought  to  go  into 
my  own  pocket.  It  shall  go  thar  too,  or  I'll  make 
a  bigger  furse  here  in  the  settlement  nor  I  did 
afore.  Gordon  needn't  go  to  pokin'  his  nose  into 
the  matter,  either,  for  he  won't  scare  me  as  easy 
as  he  did  the  last  time." 

"  How  much  would  a  deer  be  worth  at  eight 
cents  a  pound,  pap  ?  "  inquired  Dan. 

"  Wai,  that  depends.  If  he  weighed  a  hundred 
an'  twenty  pounds,  he'd  bring  as  much  as  five  or 
six  dollars,  I  reckon  ;  an'  if  he  weighed  two  hun- 
dred an'  fifty  pounds,  like  the  one  I  killed 
three  winters  ago,  he'd  be  worth  fifteen,  an' 
mebbe  twenty-five  dollars,"  answered  Godfrey, 
who  was  no  quicker  at  figures  than  he  used  to 
be. 

"  That's  a  heap  more  nor  I  could  make  chop- 
ping wood,"  said  Dan. 

"  Course  it  is.  A  smart  hunter  like  yourself 
oughter  be  able  to  get  a  deer  every  day,  to  say 


LESTER   BRIGHAM   MAKES   NEW   FRIENDS.     291 

no  thin'  of  the  turkeys  ye  might  trap  an'  shoot. 
'Sides  ye'd  be  doin'  a  gentleman's  work  an'  not 
a  nigger's." 

This  conversation  took  place  between  Dan  and 
his  father  one  bright  summer's  day  when  they 
were  returning  home  from  the  landing,  whither 
they  had  gone  under  pretense  of  looking  for 
work.  Mrs.  Evans  knew  there  was  something 
wrong  the  moment  they  appeared  at  the  door,  and 
she  was  not  long  in  finding  out  what  it  was. 
Godfrey  and  Dan  had  worked  faithfully  during 
the  whole  of  the  winter  and  spring,  and  Mrs. 
Evans,  although  she  did  not  see  a  cent  of  the 
money  they  earned,  David  being  expected  to  look 
out  for  her  comfort,  began  to  believe  that  their 
reformation  was  complete,  and  that  it  would 
prove  to  be  lasting  ;  but  now  she  learned,  to  her 
great  sorrow,  that  she  had  been  too  hasty  in  com- 
ing to  these  conclusions.  When  she  saw  that  the 
axes  were  thrown  aside,  and  that  the  rifles,  which 
had  so  long  been  idle,  were  daily  taken  down  from 
their  hooks,  she  knew  that  bad  times  were  coming 
again.  And  they  came  apace,  too.  Godfrey  and 
Dan  seemed  to  have  lost  all  their  skill  as  hunters, 
for  the  game  they  brought  to  the  landing  did  not 


292  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

amount  to  much.  It  is  true  that  they  made  some 
money,  but  it  all  slipped  through  their  fingers 
without  doing  them  any  good,  and  by  the  time 
cold  weather  came  they  were  as  ragged  and  lazy 
as  they  had  ever  been,  and  just  as  ready  to  en- 
gage in  any  scheme  that  would  bring  them  money 
without  work. 

Meanwhile  Lester  Brigham  mustered  up  cour- 
age enough  to  come  out  of  his  retirement,  and 
was  somewhat  surprised  as  well  as  vexed  to  learn 
that  he  might  have  done  so  long  ago  if  he  had 
felt  so  disposed,  and  that  his  voluntary  banish- 
ment was  entirely  needless.  Nobody  paid  much 
attention  to  him.  Fred  and  Joe  Packard,  and  all 
the  other  decent  boys  who  lived  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, greeted  him  pleasantly  whenever  they 
passed  him  on  the  road,  and  no  one  except  the 
loafers  at  the  landing  had  anything  to  say  to  him 
concerning  his  past  conduct.  These  gentlemen  of 
leisure  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  question 
him  regarding  that  terrible  bear-fight  on  Bruin's 
Island,  in  which  he  and  the  absent  Bob  had  won 
so  much  renown,  and  now  and  then  they  re- 
minded him  that  he  had  assisted  in  burning  Don 
Gordon's  shooting-box  ;  but  they  did  it  all  so 


LESTER   BRIGHAM   MAKES   NEW   FRIENDS.     293 

good-naturedly  that  Lester  could  not  get  angry  at 
them. 

"  Don's  got  another  shantee  over  there  on  the 
point,  and  I  shouldn't  be  sorry  to  see  that  go  up 
in  smoke  like  the  old  one  did,"  a  man  of  the 
Godfrey  Evans  stamp  said  to  Lester  one  day. 
"  'Tain't  no  use  to  him  and  Bert,  and  by  building 
it  there  they  have  taken  the  bread  out  of  the 
mouths  of  a  good  many  folks  who  live  about  here. 
As  soon  as  school  is  out  they'll  come  home,  get  a 
party  of  their  friends  together,  and  kick  up  such 
a  rumpus  there  on  the  lake  that  all  the  birds  will 
be  driven  out  of  the  country  ;  and  when  a  poor 
man  gets  out  of  bacon  he  can't  have  a  duck  or 
goose  for  dinner,  for  there  won't  be  any  for  him  to 
shoot." 

Every  time  Lester  Brigham  rode  away  from  the 
landing — he  very  soon  fell  into  the  habit  of  going 
there  as  regularly  as  Godfrey  and  Dan  did — he 
carried  with  him  the  impression  that  the  Gordons 
were  not  held  in  very  high  esteem,  and  that  he 
and  Bob  Owens  had  the  sympathy  of  all  the  best 
people  in  the  settlement.  Encouraged  by  this 
belief,  he  began  making  efforts  to  work  his  way 
into  the  good  graces  of  the  Packard  boys,  but  he 


294  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

failed  utterly.  Fred  and  Joe  were  warm  friends 
of  the  Gordons,  and  they  met  his  advances  in  so 
freezing  a  manner  that  Lester  was  highly  enraged, 
and  straightway  set  his  wits  at  work  to  conjure 
up  some  plan  for  getting  even  with  them.  He 
wished  for  Bob  Owens  more  than  he  had  ever 
wished  for  him  before  (if  Bob  had  been  there  he 
would  not  have  joined  him  in  any  plan  for  mis- 
chief or  revenge,  for  he  was  not  that  kind  of  a 
boy  now) ;  but  as  the  only  friend  he  had  ever  had 
since  he  had  been  in  the  settlement  was  many 
miles  away,  and  Lester  could  no  Lnger  bear  to 
live  alone,  he  was  forced  to  look  for  another  asso- 
ciate— one  who  had  plenty  of  time  at  his  disposal, 
and  who  would  accompany  him  on  all  his  hunting 
and  fishing  excursions.  He  found  him  at  last  in 
the  person  of  Din  Evans,  who  lost  no  time  in 
turning  their  intimacy  to  account. 

Lester,  as  we  know,  was  provided  with  all  the 
implements  that  any  sportsman  could  possibly 
find  use  for,  but  he  was  a  very  poor  shot,  and  he 
knew  nothing  whatever  about  hunting.  He  had, 
however,  a  larger  amount  of  pocket  money  than 
he  could  spend  in  Rochdale,  and  whenever  Dan 
Evans  made  a  good  bag,  Lester  would  select  from 


LESTER   BRIGHAM   MAKES   NEW   FRIENDS.     295 

it  such  birds  or  animals  as  he  fancied,  pay  the 
cash  for  them,  and  carry  them  home  to  show  as 
trophies  of  his  own  skill.  Of  course  Dan  was 
not  just  such  a  companion  as  he  would  like  to 
have  had,  but  he  was  better  than  no  friend  at 
all,  and  in  his  presence  Lester  could  brag  to  his 
heart's  content.  No  matter  how  unreasonable  the 
story  he  told,  Dan  never  disputed  it  or  even  looked 
incredulous.  He  was  much  too  cunning  for  that. 
"If  I  had  the  money  that  your  brother  brought 
my  father  last  night,  I  wouldn't  be  here  to- 
morrow at  this  time,"  Lester  said  to  Dan  one 
day.  He  had  of  late  grown  very  tired  of  life  in 
Mississippi,  and  was  almost  constantly  urging  his 
father  to  let  him  go  somewhere,  he  didn't  much 
care  where,  so  long  as  he  could  find  ample  oppor- 
tunity for  recreation,  and  would  not  be  required 
to  work  or  study.  Mr.  Brigham  had  threatened 
to  send  him  away  to  school  if  he  did  not  leave  off 
bothering  him,  and  Lester  was  so  very  much  afraid 
he  would  carry  his  threat  into  execution,  that  he 
began  to  think  seriously  of  leaving  home  as  his 
friend,  Bob  Owens,  had  done.  The  only  thing 
that  stood  in  his  way  was  the  want  of  money. 
"When  the  mail  was  distributed  last  night  my 


296  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

father  got  a  letter  with  five  thousand  dollars  in 
it,"  continued  Lester.  "  He  gets  that  much  on 
the  fifteenth  day  of  every  month  from  his  agent 
who  is  selling  oif  our  property  in  the  North." 

Dan  opened  his  eyes  in  great  surprise.  Five 
thousand  dollars  was  not  so  large  an  amount  as 
he  and  his  father  had  hoped  to  make  by  digging 
up  the  barrel  of  gold  and  silver  that  was  supposed 
to  be  buried  in  General  Gordon's  potato-patch, 
but  still  it  was  a  lot  of  money — a  much  greater 
sum  than  Dan  ever  expected  to  earn  by  honest 
labor. 

"I  don't  want  you  to  say  anything  about  it," 
continued  Lester,  "for  it  is  my  opinion  that  there 
are  a  good  many  men  about  here  who  would  not 
be  any  too  good  to  waylay  Dave  and  rob  him  if 
they  knew  that  he  was  entrusted  with  the  care  of 
so  much  money." 

Dan  protested  that  he  wouldn't  think  of  such 
a  thing  ;  but  still  the  information  he  had 
received  seemed  to  make  an  impression  upon  him, 
for  he  became  very  silent  and  thoughtful  after 
that,  and  Lester  could  hardly  get  a  word  out  of 
him.  He  seemed  to  have  suddenly  lost  all 
interest  in  hunting,  for  he  missed  several  fair 


LESTER   BRIGHAM    MAKES   NEW   FRIENDS.     297 

shots,  and  finally  declaring  that  he  did  not  feel  in 
the  humor  for  sport,  he  abruptly  abandoned  his 
companion,  leaving  him  to  continue  the  hunt 
alone  or  to  go  home,  just  as  he  pleased.  An  idea 
had  suggested  itself  to  Dau,  and  he  wanted  to  get 
off  by  himself  so  that  he  could  turn  it  over  in  his 
mind  and  see  what  he  could  make  of  it. 

"  Five  thousand  dollars,"  said  Dan  to  himself, 
as  he  hurried  through  the  woods.  "  That's  a 
right  smart  chance  of  money,  the  first  thing  you 
know.  And  to  think  that  our  leetle  Dave  should 
have  the  handlin'  of  it !  Dave  makes  stacks  of 
greenbacks  by  ridin'  around  the  country  doin' 
nothin',  he  wears  good  clothes  all  the  time,  and 
here's  me — Dog-gone  my  buttons,  I've  got  just  as 
good  a  right  to  have  five  thousand  dollars  as 
Mr.  Brigham  has.  I  wish  I  was  mail-carrier. 
I  wouldn't  ask  to  go  more'n  one  trip,  an'  after 
that  nobody  in  this  country  wouldn't  ever  set  eyes 
onto  me  again." 

Dan  seemed  to  know  where  he  was  going  and 
what  he  intended  to  do  when  he  got  there,  for  he 
kept  straight  ahead  without  once  slackening  his 
pace,  paying  no  heed  to  the  squirrels  which 
barked  at  him  as  he  hurried  along,  and  making 


298      DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

his  way  around  the  foot  of  Diamond  lake,  he 
finally  reached  the  levee  that  ran  along  the  bank 
of  the  river.  Here  he  found  a  dilapidated  house- 
boat which  had  been  tied  up  to  the  bank  for  a 
month  or  more — long  enough,  at  any  rate,  for 
Dan  to  become  very  well  acquainted  with  the 
men  who  owned  it.  He  had  met  them  while 
hunting  in  the  woods,  had  showed  them  the  best 
places  to  set  their  traps  for  minks  and  'coons,  had 
taken  part  with  them  in  shooting-matches  at  the 
landing,  and  had  given  them  information  which 
rendered  it  comparatively  easy  for  them  to  forage 
upon  the  hen-roosts  and  smoke-houses  of  the 
planters  who  lived  in  the  neighborhood.  They 
had  drawn  a  good  many  secrets  from  the  boy — 
one  especially  that  they  intended  to  use  for  their 
own  benefit  as  soon  as  the  opportunity  was 
presented. 

Dan  walked  up  the  plank  that  ran  from  the 
shore  to  the  bow  of  the  house-boat,  and  entered 
the  cabin  without  ceremony.  It  was  as  dismal  a 
hole  as  he  had  ever  looked  into,  and  Dan,  accus- 
tomed as  he  was  to  gloomy  surroundings,  won- 
dered how  anybody  could  live  there.  It  contained 
but  one  apartment,  and  that  was  used  as  a 


LESTER   BRIGHAM   MAKES   NEW   FRIENDS.     299 

kitchen,  sitting-room,  dining-room  and  bed-room. 
The  men  were  lounging  in  their  bunks,  while 
their  wives  were  gathered  about  the  rusty  stove 
puffing  vigorously  at  their  well-blackened  cob-pipes. 
When  the  boat  careened  under  Dan's  weight,  one 
of  the  men  sprang  from  his  bunk  and  made  an 
effort  to  conceal  a  couple  of  chickens  he  had  just 
been  picking  ;  but  as  soon  as  he  saw  who  the 
visitor  was,  he  laid  them  down  again,  for  he 
knew  he  had  nothing  to  fear. 

"  Mornin'.  I  reckon  I  skeered  ye  jest  a  trifle, 
didn't  I  ?  How  wet  ye  be  in  here,"  said  Dan, 
glancing  at  the  little  pools  of  water  that 
filled  every  depression  in  the  rough,  uneven 
floor. 

"  Come  in  an'  take  a  cheer,  Dannie,"  said  the 
man  who  had  tried  to  hide  the  chickens,  while 
the  other  two  sat  up  in  their  bunks  and  nodded 
to  him."  "  It  is  damp,  that's  a  fact ;  but,  you 
see,  it  rained  powerful  yesterday,  the  roof  aint  by 
no  means  as  tight  as  it  might  be,  an'  the  ole  scow 
leaks  water  awful.  We  can't  hardly  keep  her 
pumped  out." 

"  Then  what  makes  ye  stay  here  ?  "  asked  Dan. 
"  I  know  a  nice,  tight  leetle  house  over  thar  on 


300  DON    GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

the  shore  of  the  lake,  with  two  big  rooms  into  it, 
an'  thar  aint  nobody  lives  thar." 

"  We've  seen  it ;  hut  it's  locked  up." 

"  What's  the  odds  ?  Take  something  an'  pull 
one  of  the  steeples  out,  an'  ye  kin  get  in  as  easy 
as  fallin'  off  a  log." 

"  We  don't  want  to  get  into  no  trouble.  Who 
owns  it  ?  " 

"  Don  Gordon  ;  but  he's  off  somewhere  goin'  to 
school,  an'  thar's  no  tellin'  when  he  will  be 
to  hum." 

"  Does  he  live  thar  when  he's  to  home  ?  " 

"No.  He  jest  stays  there  a  leetle  while  an' 
shoots  ducks  an'  geese.  That's  what  he  built  it 
fur." 

"  Rich  folks  always  has  nice  things,"  said  one 
of  the  men  who  had  not  spoken  before,  "  but  we 
poor  folks  has  to  take  what  we  can  get.  We're 
just  as  good  as  Gen'ral  Gordon  too,  every  day  in 
the  week." 

"So  be  I,"  said  Dan,  "an'  I  wouldn't  stand 
back  if  I  wanted  to  go  thar.  Thar  aint  no  sense 
in  Don's  livin'  in  that  shantee  when  his  father's 
got  a  big  house  with  carpets  an'  a  pianner  into  it, 
an'  chiny  an'  silver  to  set  the  table  with." 


LESTER   BRIGHAM    MAKES   NEW   FRIENDS.     301 

"  No,  thar  ain't,"  said  the  man  who  had  done 
the  most  of  the  talking  and,  who  answered  to  the 
name  of  Barlow.  "We'll  move  our  duds  over 
thar,  if  we  can  get  in,  an'  stay  thar  until  we  can 
fix  our  boat  up  a  little.  If  everything  works  right, 
we'll  have  a  better  one  before  long." 

He  got  upon  his  feet  as  he  spoke  and  drew  from 
under  his  bunk  a  short  bar  of  iron,  which  had 
more  than  once  come  into  play  when  Barlow 
wanted  to  force  an  entrance  into  somebody's 
smoke-house.  Carrying  this  in  his  hand,  he  went 
ashore  with  Dan,  who  led  the  way  through  the 
woods  toward  Don  Gordon's  shooting-box.  It 
was  the  work  of  scarcely  a  moment  to  pull  out 
one  of  the  staples,  and  when  that  had  been  done, 
the  door  swung  open,  and  Dan  and  his  companion 
went  in  to  take  a  survey  of  the  interior.  It  was 
dry  and  comfortable,  as  clean  as  it  could  possibly 
be,  and  Barlow  at  once  decided  that  he  would  live 
there  as  long  as  he  remained  in  that  neighbor- 
hood. 

"It's  nice  to  be  rich,"  said  he,  seating  himself  in 
one  of  the  empty  bunks,  after  touching  a  match 
to  the  pile  of  light  wood  which  the  lawful  owner 
of  the  shooting-box  had  left  in  the  fire-place. 


302       DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  It's  nice  to  have  horses  an'  hounds  an'  niggers  to 
work  for  you,  while  you  have  nothing  to  do  but 
ride  around  the  country  an'  enjoy  yourself.  That's 
the  way  I'd  live  if  I  had  the  chance  to  make 
money  that  your  brother's  got." 

"  Yes,  Dave  makes  right  smart,"  said  Dan, 
with  some  pride  in  his  tones,  "  an'  he  don't  do  no 
work,  nuther.  But  he's  scandalous  mean  with 
what  he  'arns.  He  gives  it  all  to  mam,  an'  me 
an'  pap  never  have  none  of  it.  He's  gettin' 
mighty  tired  of  Dave's  way  of  doin',  pap  is,  an' 
t'other  night  he  told  Dave  that  he  could  jest  fork 
over  every  cent  of  his  'arnin's,  an'  let  pap  have 
the  handlin'  of  'em.  Dave,  he  said  he  wouldn't 
do  it,  an'  I'm  looking  for  the  biggest  kind  of  a 
furse  up  to  our  house  when  next  pay-day  comes." 

"  Your  pap  has  got  the  right  to  every  cent 
Dave  makes  till  he  is  twenty-one  years  old,  an' 
Dave  can't  hender  him  from  takin'  it,"  said  Bar- 
low. "  I  'spose  he  carries  a  heap  of  money  between 
the  landin'  an'  the  county-seat  in  that  mail-bag 
of  his'n." 

"  I  should  say  he  did  !  "  exclaimed  Dan.  "  Only 
last  night  he  brought  in  five  thousand  dollars  for 
Mr.  Brigham — the  father  of  that  boy  who  was 


LESTER   BKIGHAM   MAKES   NEW   FRIENDS.     303 

down  here  with  me  t'other  day.  Lester  said  so 
this  mornin'.  He  told  me  too  that  Dave  brings 
in  just  that  much  on  the  fifteenth  day  of  every 
month." 

Barlow  started  and  looked  hard  at  Dan,  and 
then  he  looked  down  at  the  floor.  "  Wai,  if  I  was 
Dave,"  said  he,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  I'd  bring 
in  jest  one  more  of  them  letters,  an'  then  I'd  skip." 

"  So  would  I,"  said  Dan.  "  What  does  Brig- 
ham  want  with  that  money  ?  He's  got  more'n  he 
can  use  already.  Lester  said  so." 

"  That's  always  the  way  with  rich  folks,  Dan- 
nie. The  more  they  get  the  more  they  want ;  an' 
me  an'  you  an'  everybody  like  us  could  starve  lor 
all  they  care.  We're  jest  as  good  as  they  be  too. 
It's  a  wonder  to  me  that  somebody  don't  go  for 
Dave  an'  take  some  of  them  letters  away  from 
him." 

"  I  don't  care  if  they  do,"  answered  Dan.  "  If 
I  should  see  'em  doin'  it,  I  wouldn't  lift  a  hand 
to  hender  'em.  That  would  bring  Dave  down 
from  his  high  boss,  fur  Gen'ral  Gordon  wouldn't 
never  hire  him  to  tote  the  mail  agin  ;  an'  then 
he'd  have  to  scratch  for  a  livin'  the  way  me  an' 
pap  does." 


304      DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"It  would  serve  him  right,  for  bein'  so  stingy," 
said  Barlow. 

"  But  the  feller  that  goes  for  him  had  better 
watch  out,"  continued  Dan,  "  fur  Dave,  he  carries 
a  double-barrel  dissolver  in  his  pocket.  It  shoots 
six  times,  an'  he  knows  how  to  use  it." 

"  I  don't  reckon  that  would  stand  in  the  way 
of  anybody  who  wanted  them  letters,"  said  Bar- 
low, with  a  laugh.  "  If  Dave  should  see  a  couple 
of  loaded  rifles  lookin'  him.  square  in  the  face,  he 
wouldn't  think  of  his  six-shooter." 

"Mebbe  he  wouldn't,"  said  Dan.  "But  if 
/  could  ride  that  mail-route  the  next  time  Brig- 
ham's  money-letter  comes  in — if  Dave  could  be 
tuk  sick,  or  get  lost  in  the  woods,  or  something 
so't  I  could  take  his  place — the  fellow  that  wanted 
them  five  thousand  wouldn't  have  no  trouble,  for 
I  shouldn't  have  no  dissolver  with  me.  But  he'd 
have  to  give  me  half." 

This  was  the  idea  that  had  so  suddenly  sug- 
gested itself  to  Dan  Evans — to  get  David  out  of 
the  way  for  one  day  so  that  he  could  carry  the 
mail,  and  give  Barlow  and  his  two  friends  a  chance 
to  secure  a  portion  of  Mr.  Brigham's  money.  If 
Barlow  had  jumped  at  the  bait  thus  adroitly 


LESTER   BRIGHAM    MAKES   NEW   FRIENDS.     305 

thrown  out,  Dan  would  have  proposed  that,  after 
the  robbery  had  been  accomplished,  they  should 
all  take  to  the  flat-boat,  push  it  out  into  the  river, 
and  let  the  current  take  it  to  New  Orleans,  where 
they  would  divide  the  money  and  separate,  Dan 
going  his  way  and  Barlow  and  his  companions 
going  theirs.  Dan  thought  it  was  a  splendid  idea, 
but  Barlow  knocked  it  into  a  cocked  hat  by  the 
very  next  words  he  uttered. 

"You  couldn't  take  your  brother's  place  even 
for  a  single  day,"  said  he. 

"  What  fur  ?  "  demanded  Dan,  who  was  greatly 
surprised.  "  Can't  I  ride  that  thar  colt  of  his'n  as 
well  as  he  kin  ?  " 

"  I  'spose  you  can  ;  but  that  ain't  the  pint. 
You've  never  been  swore  in  fur  a  mail-carrier,  an' 
so  you  would  have  no  right  to  tech  that  mail-bag. 
If  Dave  should  be  tuk  sick  or  get  lost  in  the 
woods,  Gen'ral  Gordon  would  have  to  carry  the 
mail  himself." 

"  Whoop  ! "  yelled  Dan,  jumping  up  and  knock- 
ing his  heels  together.  "  He'd  be  a  wusser  man 
to  fool  with  nor  Dave,  fur  he's  an  old  soldier." 

Barlow  made  no  reply.  The  boy  had  given  him 
something  to  think  about,  and  he  was  as  anxious 


306       DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

to  be  rid  of  his  presence  as  Dan  was  to  get  rid  of 
his  friend  Lester  Brigham.  He  left  him  without 
taking  the  trouble  to  assign  any  reason  for  his 
hurried  departure,  and  went  1-nek  to  his  boat.  In 
the  course  of  the  day  he  and  his  friends  transferred 
their  luggage  to  the  shooting-box,  and  there  they 
lived  until  they  were  ordered  out  by  its  indignant 
owner.  As  their  time  was  not  fully  occupied  they 
had  leisure  to  talk  about  the  mail-carrier  and  Mr. 
Brigham's  money  ;  and  we  shall  presently  see  how 
their  numerous  consultations  resulted. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE   MAIL-CARKIER   IN   TROUBLE. 

"IT ERE,  Dandy!  Here  Punch!  To  heel," 
said  Bert,  as  he  and  his  four. companions 
started  down  the  shore  of  the  lake  in  search  of 
their  supper. 

"Why  do  you  make  the  dogs  go  behind?" 
demanded  Hopkins.  "  Why  don't  you  hie  them 
on,  and  perhaps  they  will  stand  something  for  us. 
I  should  think  this  ought  to  be  good  quail 
ground." 

"  So  it  is,"  answered  Bert.  "  And  if  you  want 
a  chance  at  some,  we  '11 " 

"  No  we  won't,"  interrupted  Egan.  "  If  little 
birds  are  the  height  of  Hop's  ambition,  let  him 
take  the  pointers  some  day  and  go  off  by  himself. 
We  are  after  ducks  now,  and  we  want  the  dogs  to 
stay  with  us,  and  bring  our  game  ashore  when  we 
kill  it." 

Hopkins  made  no  reply.  Like  all  enthusiastic 
sportsmen,  he  had  his  own  ideas  of  shooting,  and 


308  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

he  was  much  more  successful  with  some  kinds  of 
game  than  he  was  with  others.  There  was  no  boy 
who  could  beat  him  in  getting  over  a  rough  coun- 
try on  horseback,  when  the  hounds  were  in  pursuit 
of  a  deer  or  fox  ;  he  was  almost  certain  to  kill 
every  snipe,  quail,  or  grouse  that  got  up  before 
him  ;  but  a  wild  duck,  going  down  wind  with 
the  speed  of  a  lightning  express  train,  bothered 
him.  With  all  his  practice,  he  had  never  been 
able  to  make  a  respectable  bag  of  water-fowl ;  so 
he  stood  around,  holding  his  gun  in  the  hollow  of 
his  arm,  and  watched  Egan,  who  cut  down  every 
duck  that  passed  anywhere  within  seventy-five 
yards  of  him.  The  pointers  brought  them  out  as 
fast  as  they  fell  into  the  lake,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  Bert  and  Fred  Packard,  who  were 
polite  enough  to  allow  their  guests  to  do  all 
the  shooting,  had  about  as  many  ducks  slung 
over  their  shoulders  as  they  wanted  to  carry. 

"This  is  like  the  handle  of  a  jug — all  on 
one  side,"  said  Hopkins,  at  length.  "I  must 
find  something  to  shoot  at,  for  I  can't  carry  these 
loads  back  home  with  me." 

He  gradually  drew  away  from  his  companions 
as  he  spoke,  but  he  had  no  intention  of  going 


THE    MAIL-CARRIER   IN    TROUBLE.  309 

off  alone.  He  kept  his  eyes  on  the  dogs,  and 
when  he  saw  them  looking  at  him,  he  waved  his 
hand  toward  the  bushes.  The  intelligent  anil 
well-trained  animals  understood  him,  and,  believ- 
ing no  doubt  that  hunting  upland  birds  was  easier 
and  pleasanter  work  than  retrieving  ducks  from  the 
cold  waters  of  the  lake,  they  were  prompt  to  obey 
the  order  thus  silently  conveyed  to  them.  Egan 
and  the  rest  did  not  see  the  dogs  when  they 
went  away,  for  their  attention  was  fully  occupied 
with  a  fine  flock  of  mallards,  some  of  which 
were  coming  across  the  lake,  holding  a  course 
which  promised  to  bring  them  within  easy  range 
of  Egan's  double-barrel.  The  latter,  who  was 
snugly  hidden  in  a  thicket  of  bushes,  had 
cocked  both  barrels  of  his  gun,  and  was  waiting 
for  the  ducks  to  come  a  little  nearer  to  his 
place  of  concealment,  when  all  on  a  sudden  they 
took  wing  and  disappeared  up  the  lake.  Egan 
and  his  companions  looked  all  around  to  se.e 
what  had  frightened  them,  and  discovered  Hop- 
kins and  the  pointers  in  the  act  of  crossing  a 
fence  that  ran  between  the  woods  and  a  brier- 
patch. 

"  Now,  Hop,  that  will  never  do,"  cried  Egan. 


310  DON  GOKDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  How  are  we  going  to  get  our  ducks  ashore  if  you 
take  the  dogs  away  ?  " 

"  Throw  chimks  on  the  other  side  of  them  and 
let  the  waves  wash  them  ashore,"  was  the  reply. 
"  I  saw  a  flock  of  quails  over  here,  and  as  soon  as 
I  get  some  of  them,  I  will  bring  the  dogs  back." 

"  You're  not  much  of  a  sportsman,  Hop,"  said 
Curtis.  "  There  is  no  such  thing  as  a  flock  of 
quails.  Covey  is  the  proper  word." 

"  Aw  ! "  said  Hopkins.  "  Well,  I  don't  care 
what  you  call  them,  so  long  as  you  will  let  me 
have  the  dogs  long  enough  to  shoot  some  of  them. 
I'll  be  back  in  a  few  minutes." 

The  duck  hunters  were  obliged  to  be  satisfied 
with  this  promise,  and  when  Hopkins  made  it  he 
fully  intended  to  keep  it ;  but  in  the  ardor  of  the 
chase  he  forgot  all  about  it.  The  pointers  very 
soon  found  the  covey,  which  Hopkins  had  marked 
down  very  accurately,  and  when  it  took  wing  at  his 
approach,  he  brought  down  five  members  of  it  very 
handsomely.  Punch  and  Dandy  dropped  to  shot 
— that  is,  when  the  gun  was  fired,  they  laid  down 
and  waited  for  the  hunter  to  reload — and  when 
they  were  ordered  to  seek  dead,  they  executed  a 
manoeuvre  which  some  of  our  best  artists,  who 


THE    MAIL-CARRIER   IN    TROUBLE.  311 

love  a  dog  and  gun,  have  often  reproduced  on 
canvas. 

The  reason  why  dogs  are  taught  to  drop  to  shot 
is  this  :  The  members  of  the  covey  do  not  all  fly 
away  at  the  same  time,  but  some  generally  re- 
main behind,  preferring  to  trust  to  concealment 
rather  than  to  flight.  If  the  dogs  were  permitted 
to  rush  in  at  once  to  secure  the  dead  birds, 
they  would  flush  these  laggards,  which  would  get 
off  scot  free  ;  for  of  course  the  sportsman  could 
not  shoot  at  them  while  he  held  an  empty  gun  in 
his  hands. 

"  Seek  dead,"  commanded  Hopkins,  as  soon  as 
he  had  reloaded  his  gun  ;  whereupon  the  dogs 
jumped  up,  and,  after  running  about  among  the 
bushes  for  a  few  minutes,  stopped  and  came  to 
a  point. 

"  Fetch  ! "  said  the  hunter  ;  and  in  obedience 
to  the  order  each  dog  seized  a  bird.  They  were 
coming  in  with  them,  when  Dandy  stopped  as 
if  he  had  suddenly  been  deprived  of  all  power 
of  action,  and  came  to  another  point.  He  was 
standing  a  live  bird  while  he  held  a  dead  one  in 
his  mouth.  Punch  backed  him  splendidly — that 
is,  he  stopped  and  pointed  also,  although  he  did 


312  DON   GORDON'S    SHOOTIXG-BOX. 

not  see  or  smell  the  bird — and  the  two  presented 
a  picture  that  Hopkins,  had  he  been  handy  with 
the  brush  or  pencil,  would  have  been  glad  to  pre- 
serve. He  stood  and  looked  at  it  for  at  least  five 
minutes,  the  dogs  holding  their  point  stanchly 
all  the  while,  and  then  he  flushed  the  bird  and 
brought  it  down. 

"  Well  done,  boys,"  said  Hopkins,  after  he 
had  reloaded  his  gun,  and  placed  the  two  quails 
carefully  away  in  the  capacious  pockets  of  his 
shooting-coat ;  "  you  have  been  educated  by 
somebody  who  understands  his  business.  Seek 
dead." 

Hopkins  had  kept  his  eyes  on  the  surviving 
members  of  the  covey,  and  marked  them  down 
(by  that  we  mean  that  he  had  noted  the  exact 
spot  on  which  they  alighted) ;  but  he  did  not 
intend  to  pay  any  further  attention  to  them  just 
then.  He  knew  that  every  minute  he  spent  in 
hunting  them  up  would  be  just  so  much  time 
wasted.  He  had  learned  by  experience  that  after 
a  covey  has  once  been  flushed,  it  is  almost  impos- 
sible for  the  best  dogs  to  find  it  again.  A  large 
number  of  quails  have  been  seen  to  settle  down  in 
a  clump  of  bushes  not  more  than  ten  feet  in  cir- 


THE   MAIL-CARRIER   IN   TROUBLE.  313 

cumference,  and  the  dogs  have  run  through  their 
place  of  concealment  in  every  direction  without 
seeing  or  scenting  a  single  bird.  Every  sportsman 
has  noticed  this,  and  some  of  the  best  of  them 
affirm  that  the  birds  are  endowed  with  the  power 
of  retaining  their  scent ;  but  whether  that  is  so 
or  not — and  nobody  has  ever  been  able  to  refute 
it — the  fact  that  they  are  hard  to  find  when  once 
they  have  become  scattered,  remains  the  same. 

"  I  will  attend  to  you  in  half  an  hour,"  solilo- 
quized Hopkins,  when  all  the  dead  birds  had  been 
brought  in.  "  By  that  time  you  will  begin  to  run 
around,  and  the  dogs  will  be  able  to  scent  you. 
Hie  on,  boys  !  Hunt  up  another  flock." 

Hopkins  had  never  seen  so  many  quails  as  he 
saw  that  afternoon,  not  even  in  Maryland,  where 
they  are  found  in  such  numbers  that  they  attract 
sportsmen  from  distant  States.  He  found  so  many 
fresh  coveys  that  he  forgot  all  about  the  one  he 
had  left  in  the  brier-patch.  The  pointers  led 
him  on  and  on,  and  Hopkins  never  stopped  to 
take  his  bearings,  until  he  had  filled  the  pockets 
of  his  shooting-coat  so  full  of  birds  that  they 
would. not  hold  another  one.  Then  he  sat  down 
on  a  log  to  rest,  and  to  listen  for  the  roar  of 
14 


314  DON    GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

Egan's  gun.  But  he  did  not  hear  it,  for  Egan 
and  his  party  were  on  their  way  to  the  shooting- 
box,  having  secured  all  the  birds  they  wanted. 

"  I  declare,  it  is  growing  dark,"  said  Hopkins  ; 
"and  if  I  don't  reach  the  cabin  pretty  soon,  I 
shall  have  to  stay  in  the  woods  all  night.  That 
would  not  be  pleasant,  for  the  feHows  never  would 
lenve  off  poking  fun  at  me.  Come  on,  boys.  I 
think  the  lake  lies  in  this  direction." 

But  Hopkins  was  not  the  only  hunter  who  has 
been  "  completely  turned  around "  in  the  woods, 
and  instead  of  going  toward  the  lake,  he  followed 
a  course  that  lay  parallel  with  the  shore,  and 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  it.  He  walked 
rapidly,  passing  through  Godfrey  Evans's  old  cot- 
ton field — now  grown  up  to  briers — and  within  less 
than  two  hundred  yards  of  his  cabin,  and  finally 
found  himself  sitting  on  the  top  rail  of  a  fence 
which  ran  along  by  the  side  of  a  smooth,  well- 
beaten  road.  He  did  not  remember  that  he  had 
ever  seen  that  road  before.  He  believed  that  it 
ran  from  the  river  back  into  the  country ;  but 
which  was  the  river-end  of  it  and  which  the 
country-end,  he  could  not  tell.  The  pointers  did 
not  seem  disposed  to  help  him  out  of  his  quan- 


THE   MAIL-CARRIER   IN   TROUBLE.  315 

dary,  for  when  he  stopped  on  the  top  rail  of  the 
fence  to  rest,  they  laid  themselves  contentedly 
down  by  the  side  of  the  road  to  wait  until  he  was 
ready  to  go  on. 

"  I  am  out  of  my  reckoning  as  sure  as  the 
world,"  said  Hopkins  to  himself,  "and  there's  no 
house  in  sight.  Ah  !  Here  comes  somebody. 
I'll  ask  him  if  he  will  tell  me  which  way  I  must 
go  to  find  the  river — that  is,  if  I  can  stop  him." 

Just  then  Hopkins  heard  the  clatter  of  a  horse's 
hoofs  on  the  hard  road.  He  knew  that  the  animal 
was  approaching  at  the  top  of  his  speed,  but  he 
could  not  see  him,  for  the  thick  bushes  shut  out 
his  view.  He  jumped  off  the  fence  and  hurried  to 
the  road  to  intercept  the  horseman,  and  just  then 
a  riderless  nag  dashed  by,  running  with  the  speed 
of  the  wind.  Hopkins  knew  him  the  moment  he 
caught  sight  of  him,  for  he  had  seen  him  be- 
fore. 

"  There,  sir  ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  knew  that  colt 
would  do  some  damage  if  he  ever  got  the  chance. 
When  you  see  a  horse  with  a  narrow  forehead 
and  peaked  ears  that  almost  touch  at  the  tips, 
you  want  to  look  out  for  him.  He's  gone  and 
tumbled  Dave  Evans  and  his  mail  bag  off  into  the 


316  DON  GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

ditch,  and  who  knows  but  he  may  have  broken 
his  neck  ?  " 

As  this  thought  passed  through  the  boy's  mind 
he  shouldered  his  gun,  and  set  off  up  the  road  in 
the  direction  from  which  the  horse  came.  He 
moved  along  at  a  rapid  trot,  looking  everywhere 
for  the  dismounted  mail-carrier,  but  he  would 
certainly  have  passed  him  if  he  had  been  alone. 
The  dogs  were  the  first  to  discover  him.  After 
Hopkins  had  run  about  half  a  mile,  Dandy  and 
Punch,  who  were  fifty  yards  in  advance  of  him, 
suddenly  stopped  and  began  barking  at  something 
in  the  fence-corner — the  boy  could  not  see  what  it 
was,  for  the  bushes  concealed  it  from  his  view. 
Believing  from  the  actions  of  the  dogs  that  they 
had  found  a  wild  animal  of  some  kind,  Hopkins 
cocked  both  barrels  of  his  gun  and  walked  slowly 
along  the  road  until  he  came  opposite  the  fence 
corner,  but  still  he  could  see  nothing.  He  tried 
to  send  the  dogs  into  the  bushes,  but  they  posi- 
tively refused  to  go.  They  barked  loudly  and 
looked  very  savage,  but  kept  close  to  Hopkins  for 
protection. 

"  I  don't  much  like  the  idea  of  going  in  there 
myself,"  thought  the  young  hunter,  "for  there 


THE   MAIL-CARRIER   IN   TROUBLE.  317 

are  such  things  as  hears,  panthers  and  wild- 
cats in  this  country ;  and  neither  do  I  like  to  go 
on  without  having  a  shot  at  that  varmint,  what- 
ever it  may  be.  I  won't,  either.  I  am  going  to 
see  what  it  is." 

His  gun  was  loaded  with  heavy  shot,  and 
Hopkins  had  the  utmost  confidence  in  his  skill  as 
a  marksman.  Having  fully  made  up  his  mind 
that  he  would  not  be  driven  from  the  field  by  an 
invisible  enemy,  he  walked  cautiously  toward  the 
bushes,  stooping  down  now  and  then  to  peer  into 
them.  The  pointers  kept  pace  with  him,  and 
finally  Dandy,  who  must  have  discovered  some- 
thing that  set  his  fears  at  rest,  made  a  sudden 
bound  and  disappeared  in  the  thicket.  No  sooner 
was  he  out  of  sight  than  his  barking  ceased,  and 
when  Hopkins  parted  the  bushes  with  one  hand, 
holding  his  gun  in  the  other  in  readiness  for 
a  shot,  he  saw  the  pointer  licking  the  face  of  the 
mail-carrier,  who  was  lying  on  the  ground  so 
effectually  gagged  with  a  stick  that  he  could  not 
speak,  and  so  tightly  wrapped  up  in  ropes  that  he 
could  move  neither  hand  nor  foot.  Hopkins  was 
horrified,  as  almost  any  boy  would  have  been 
under  the  same  circumstances.  Although  the 


318  DON   GORDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX. 

thicket  was  pretty  dark  the  hunter  recognized 
David  as  readily  as  he  had  recognized  his  horse, 
and  he  thought  at  first  that  he  was  dead  ;  but 
when  his  optics  became  somewhat  accustomed  to 
the  obscurity,  he  saw  that  David's  eyes  were  wide 
open,  and  that  they  were  turned  toward  him  with 
a  most  appealing  expression. 

"  Well,  this  is  a  little  ahead  of  any  thing  I 
ever  heard  of,"  said  Hopkins,  who  was  pro- 
foundly astonished.  "  What  are  you  doing 
there  ?  " 

David  made  an  effort  to  reply,  but  the  stick 
that  was  tied  between  his  teeth  checked  his  utter- 
ance. Then  it  appeared  to  dawn  upon  Hopkins 
that  possibly  the  captive  mail-carrier  would  be 
grateful  for  a  little  assistance,  and  he  proceeded 
to  give  it  without  further  loss  of  time.  Letting 
down  the  hammers  of  his  gun  he  laid  the  weapon 
on  the  ground,  pulled  his  knife  from  his  pocket, 
and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  write  it,  David 
was  relieved  of  both  gag  and  bonds  and  placed 
upon  his  feet. 

"  I  have  been  robbed  ! "  he  gasped,  as  soon  as 
he  could  speak. 

"I    suspected    as    much,"     replied    Hopkins, 


THE   MAIL-CARRIER   IN    TROUBLE.  319 

calmly.  "It  could  not  have  happened  so  very 
long  ago." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not.  The  men  have  not  been 
gone  more  than  ten  minutes,  probably,  but  it 
seems  as  though  I  had  been  a  prisoner  here  for  an 
hour." 

"Very  likely.  Did  you  recognize  the  rob- 
bers ?  " 

"  I  did  not.  I  am  quite  sure  I  never  saw 
them  before.  They  had  made  an  attempt  to 
disguise  themselves  as  negroes,  but  I  could  see 
their  white  skins  through  the  black  on  their  faces 
very  plainly." 

"  Well,  come  on,"  said  Hopkins.  "  There's  no 
use  in  standing  here  and  allowing  them  to  get 
away  with  their  plunder.  Tell  me  all  about  it  as 
we  go  along." 

"  There's  not  much  to  tell,"  answered  David, 
after  he  and  Hopkins  had  worked  their  way  on*  of 
the  bushes  to  the  road.  "  I  was  jogging  along  at 
a  lively  pace,  never  dreaming  of  danger,  when  he 
first  thing  I  knew,  three  men  jumped  out  of  .  lie 
Lushes  and  halted  me.  One  pointed  a  cocked 
rifle  straight  at  my  head,  another  seized  my  horse 
by  the  bits,  while  the  third  pulled  me  and  the 


320  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

mail-bag  to  the  ground.  Then  the  man  who  was 
holding  my  horse  let  him  go " 

"  I  saw  him,"  said  Hopkins,  "  and  that  was  a 
very  lucky  thing  for  you.  I  lost  my  way,  and 
while  I  was  sitting  on  the  fence,  trying  to  make 
up  my  mind  which  end  of  this  road  I  ought  to 
take  in  order  to  reach  the  landing,  your  horse 
went  by.  I  supposed  he  had  thrown  you,  and  so 
I  came  on  to  see  if  I  could  do  anything  for  you." 

"And  very  grateful  I  am  to  you  for  it,"  said 
David,  warmly. 

"  Of  course ;  that's  all  understood  ;  but  the 
credit  belongs  to  your  horse  and  to  Don  Gordon's 
pointers.  If  I  hadn't  seen  the  horse,  I  should  not 
have  known  that  anything  had  happened  to  you  ; 
and  if  Punch  and  Dandy  had  not  been  with  me, 
I  should  have  gone  right  by  that  thicket  of 
bushes  without  once  suspecting  that  there  was 
anybody  hidden  there.  Well,  proceed.  The  man 
let  your  horse  go — then  what  ?  " 

"  Then  they  all  jumped  on  me,  and  before  I 
fully  comprehended  the  situation,  I  was  helpless 
and  speechless.  They  turned  my  pockets  inside 
out,  but  the  only  thing  they  found  in  them  that 
was  worth  stealing,  was  my  revolver.  One  of 


THE   MAIL-CARRIER   IN   TROUBLE.  321 

them  grabbed  that  and  the  mail-bag  and  made 
off  with  them,  while  the  other  two  carried  me  into 
the  bushes  and  left  me  there/' 

"  Did  they  make  much  of  a  haul  ?  "  asked 
Hopkins. 

"  I  can't  answer  that  question,  for  I  don't 
know  what  there  was  in  the  mail-bag.  If  they 
had  robbed  me  a  few  days  ago,  that  is,  on  the 
fifteenth,  they  would  have  got  something  to  pay 
them  for  their  trouble,  for  I  had  in  my  pocket 
seven  hundred  dollars  of  Silas  Jones's  money  that 
I  brought  from  the  county  seat  for  him." 

They  would  have  secured  something  else,  also, 
and  that  was  a  check  that  was  worth  five 
thousand  dollars  to  Mr.  Brigham,  but  which 
would  have  been  of  no  more  value  to  the  robbers 
than  so  much  waste  paper.  The  mail-carrier, 
however,  was  not  aware  of  that  fact,  and  if  Lester 
Brigham  had  only  been  wise  enough  to  keep  his 
own  counsel,  no  one  in  the  settlement,  except 
those  interested,  would  have  known  that  David 
was  ever  intrusted  with  money  or  its  equivalent. 

"  I'll  never  carry  any  more  funds  for  anybody," 
said  David,  choking  back  a  sob.  "  Indeed,  I 
don't  suppose  I  shall  ever  have  another  chance," 


322  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING   BOX. 

"Why  not?"  asked  Hopkins.  "You  are  in 
no  way  to  blame  for  the -loss  of  your  mail-bag." 

"  I  know  it ;  and  I  am  very  glad  indeed  that  I 
was  not  found  and  released  by  any  one  who  lives 
in  the  settlement.  As  you  are  a  stranger  here 
you  are,  of  course,  neither  a  friend  nor  an  enemy 
to  me,  and  consequently  you  can  have  no  object 
in  defending  or  condemning  me." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  I  mean  just  this :  There  is  no  one  in  the 
neighborhood  who  has  warmer  friends  and  more 
bitter  enemies  than  I  have.  I  know  that  my 
friends  will  stand  by  me  in  my  trouble,  but  there 
are  a  good  many  in  the  settlement  who  will  say 
that  I  wasn't  robbed  at  all — that  I  stole  the  mail 
and  made  up  a  story  to  cover  my  guilt.  I  am 
neither  blind  nor  deaf,  and  I  can  put  my  hand  on 
a  dozen  men  and  boys  who  are  watching  for  a 
chance  to  throw  me  out  of  my  position  so  that 
they  can  apply  for  it  themselves.  No  one  ever 
thought  the  mail-carrier's  berth  was  worth  any- 
thing until  I  got  it,  and  now  everybody  wants 
it." 

"  Let 'em  want,"  said  Hopkins,  encouragingly. 
"  You  have  nothing  to  fear  so  long  as  you  retain 


THE   MAIL-CARRIER   IN    TROUBLE.  323 

the  confidence  of  Don's  father.  We'll  go  and  see 
him  the  first  thing.  Being  a  magistrate,  he  will, 
of  course,  know  just  how  to  go  to  work  to  find 
and  arrest  those  fellows." 

The  boy's  confidence  in  General  Gordon  was 
not  misplaced,  but  it  is  doubtful  if  that  gentle- 
man, with  all  his  shrewdness,  could  have  effected 
the  capture  of  the  robbers  as  easily  as  he  did,  had 
it  not  been  for  the  fact  that  the  quick-witted  Don 
obtained  a  clue  for  him  from  a  most  unexpected 
quarter. 

We  left  Don  and  his  friends  sitting  in  their 
cosy  room  at  the  shooting-box  waiting  for  supper, 
which  was  served  in  due  time.  Curtis  and  Egan 
were  astonished  at  the  quantity  and  variety  of  the 
viands  which  old  Cuff  spread  before  them,  and 
paid  the  highest  possible  compliment  to  his  skill 
as  a  cook  and  caterer  by  eating  until  they  could 
find  room  for  no  more.  When  he  pushed  his 
chair  away  from  the  table,  after  trying  in  vain  to 
dispose  of  the  last  piece  of  roast  duck  that  Cuff 
had  placed  before  him,  Egan  declared  that  he 
never  could  go  to  bed  after  such  a  supper  as  that, 
and  proposed  that  they  should  make  another 
effort  to  find  out  where  Hopkins  was.  Don  said 


324  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

he  thought  it  would  be  a  good  plan ;  so  Egan  took 
down  his  double-barrel,  filled  one  of  his  pockets 
with  cartridges  and  started  for  the  door.  Just  as 
he  opened  it  the  report  of  a  gun,  fired  twice  in 
rapid  succession,  came  echoing  across  the  lake. 
It  sounded  from  the  direction  of  Godfrey  Evans's 
cabin. 

"  There  he  is  now,"  said  Bert. 

In  order  to  make  sure  of  it  Curtis  set  up  a  very 
fair  imitation  of  a  war-whoop  (he  and  the  rest  of 
the  academy  boys  had  been  practicing  on  it  ever 
since  the  Indians  made  the  attack  on  their  camp) 
and  before  the  echoes  it  awakened  had  wholly 
died  away,  an  answering  whoop  came  from  the 
other  side  of  the  water. 

"It  is  Hop,"  said  Don,  as  he  ran  into  the 
cabin  after  his  cap.  "  Shove  oflf  the  sail-boat, 
fellows,  and  pile  in." 

In  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  sail-boat 
had  been  launched  and  pulled  across  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  lake.  Hopkins  was  not  at 
the  landing  to  meet  them,  so  the  boat's  painter 
was  made  fast  to  a  tree,  and  Don  and  the  rest 
started  toward  Godfrey's  cabin.  By  the  aid  of 
the  light  which  streamed  through  the  open  door, 


THE   MAIL-CARRIER  IN   TROUBLE.  325 

Don  could  see  that  his  friend  was  standing  in  the 
yard,  that  David  and  his  mother  were  with  him, 
and  that  all  three  appeared  to  be  conversing 
earnestly  with  a  horseman  who  had  just  stopped 
there.  When  the  latter  saw  Don  and  his  party 
approaching,  he  put  spurs  to  his  nag  and  galloped 
away. 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  Mr.  Hopkins?"  said 
David,  bitterly.  "  There  are  twenty  men  and 
more  in  this  settlement  who  believe  just  as  Mr. 
Owens  does." 

"  What's  the  trouble  here  ?  "  inquired  Don, 
"  and  what  does  Mr.  Owens  believe  ?  " 

"0,  Mr.  Don,  it's  dreadful,"  cried  Mrs.  Evans, 
covering  her  face  with  her  hands  and  sinking 
down  upon  the  bench  beside  the  door.  "  To 
think  that  my  David  should  ever  be  accused  of 
such  a  crime  !  " 

"  The  trouble  is,  that  the  mail  has  been  stolen," 
said  Hopkins,  "and  Mr.  Owens,  who  was  ordered 
out  by  the  constable  to  assist  in  raising  a  '  hue 
and  cry'  after  the  robbers,  has  just  been  down 
here  to  comfort  David  with  the  assurance  that  he 
doesn't  believe  a  word  of  his  story." 

"  He  had  the  impudence  to  tell  me,  to  my  face, 


326       DON  GOEDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX 

that  I  was  the  thief,"  exclaimed  David,  hotly. 
"  He  said  that  when  I  first  began  to  ride  the 
route  he  told  several  people  about  here  that  that 
mail  would  get  into  trouble  through  me  sooner  or 
later,  and  he  seems  delighted  to  find  that  his 
prediction  has  been  fulfilled." 

"Why— I— I.  Eli?"  cried  Don,  who  was 
utterly  astounded  ;  while  the  rest  of  the  party, 
no  less  astonished  and  bewildered,  crowded  up 
closer  to  the  speaker  in  order  to  catch  every 
word. 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  you  are  surprised,"  said 
Hopkins.  "  So  was  I,  when  I  found  him  back 
there  in  the  country,  bound  and  gagged,  and  laid 
away  in  a  fence  corner.  Mr.  Owens  declares  that 
David  tied  himself,  but  I  know  better." 

"  What  are  you  trying  to  get  at,  anyhow  ?  " 
exclaimed  Bert. 

"That's  what  I'd  like  to  know,"  chimed  in 
Don.  "  Now,  Dave,  begin  at  the  beginning  and 
tell  your  story  so  that  we  can  understand  it." 

David  complied,  and  for  a  few  minutes  held  his 
auditors  spell-bound.  After  he  had  described 
how  the  robbers  had  tied  his  hands  and  feet  and 
concealed  him  in  the  bushes,  Hopkins  took  up  the 


THE   MAIL-CARRIER   IN    TROUBLE.  327 

narrative  and  told  his  part  of  it,  adding  that  he 
<ind  David  had  gone  straight  to  the  general,  who, 
after  listening  to  their  story,  took  immediate  steps 
to  effect  the  capture  of  the  robhers. 

"  But  I  am  very  much  afraid  that  he  will  never 
find  them,"  said  Hopkins.  "  He  acknowledged 
that  he  didn't  suspect  anybody,  and  David  says 
he  never  saw  the  men  before.  Besides,  they  were 
disguised  as  negroes." 

"I  don't  care  for  that,"  said  Don.  "I  know 
who  did  it,  and  so  do  you.  Stay  here,  every- 
body." 

To  the  surprise  of  all  his  companions,  Don 
walked  with  a  firm  and  rapid  step  straight  into  the 
cabin  and  closed  the  door  behind  him.  A  moment 
later  a  frightened  scream  came  from  the  inside, 
followed  by  the  words — 

"Go  way,  Mr.  Don!  Go  way,  I  tell  ye.  I 
didn't  tuk  it — I  sw'ar  I  didn't ;  an'  if  you  lay  an 
ugly  hand  onto  me  I'll  make  daylight  shine 
through  you  as  sure — whoop  !  " 

Just  then  a  rifle  cracked,  and  the  cabin  shook 
all  over  as  some  heavy  body  fell  violently  to  the 
floor.  These  alarming  sounds  seemed  to  freeze 
the  blood  in  the  veins  of  those  who  listened  to 


328  DON    GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

them.  The  boys  were  struck  dumb  and  motion- 
less with  horror,  while  Mrs.  Evans  wrung  her 
hands  silently  for  a  moment  and  then  fell  off  the 
bench  in  a  dead  faint.  They  knew  instinctively 
what  had  happened  inside  the  cabin.  Bert  was 
the  first  to  recover  his  power  of  action.  He  ran  for 
the  door,  but  it  would  not  open  for  him.  When 
Don  closed  it  he  had  pulled  in  the  latch-string  so 
that  his  companions  could  not  follow  him. 

"  Stand  out  of  the  way,  Bert,"  cried  Hopkins, 
"  and  give  me  a  chance  at  it." 

So  saying,  Hopkins  backed  off  a  few  paces  and 
launched  his  hundred  and  eighty  pounds  against 
the  door  with  all  the  force  he  could  command. 
The  weak  wooden  hinges  gave  way  beneath  his 
weight,  and  the  door  landed  in  the  middle  of  the 
cabin  with  Hopkins  on  top  of  it.  Bert  and  the 
rest  crowded  in  as  soon  as  the  way  was  opened 
for  them,  and  although  their  fears  were  instantly 
allayed  by  the  scene  that  was  presented  to  their 
gaze,  their  wonder  was  greatly  increased.  Dan 
Evans  was  lying  flat  upon  his  back,  and  Don 
Gordon  was  holding  him  down  with  the  greatest 
ease,  in  spite  of  Dan's  frantic  efforts  to  get  up. 

"  0,  Don  ! "  cried  Bert.     "  Did  he  hit  you  ?  " 


THE   MAIL-GABBIER   IN    TROUBLE.  329 

"No,"  was  the  encouraging  reply.  "I  am  all 
right.  You  fellows  go  out,  please,  and  leave  us 
alone.  I  want  to  ask  Dan  a  few  questions." 

The  boys  mechanically  obeyed,  looking  inquir- 
ingly at  one  another  and  shaking  their  heads  as  if 
to  say  that  all  attempts  at  explanation  would  be 
useless.  The  whole  proceeding  was  a  deep 
mystery,  and  so  it  would  remain  until  Don  was 
ready  to  clear  it  up. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

CONCLUSION. 

TIf  HILE  Don  was  listening  to  the  story  of  the 
robbery  as  related  by  David  and  Hopkins, 
he  stood  in  such  a  position  that  he  could  look 
through  the  open  door  of  the  cabin  and  command 
a  view  of  the  interior.  There  was  no  one  in  there 
except  Dan  Evans,  who,  instead  of  coming  out  to 
hear  the  story,  as  almost  any  boy  would  have 
done,  kept  his  seat  by  the  fireplace.  The  light 
shone  full  upon  him,  and  Don  could  see  that  he 
was  ill  at  ease.  He  cast  furtive  glances  toward 
the  excited  group  in  front  of  the  door,  twisted 
nervously  about  on  his  chair,  and  acted  altogether 
as  if  he  felt  very  miserable.  Don  was  surprised 
at  first,  and  finally  he  became  suspicious. 

"That  fellow  knows  more  about  this  after- 
noon's work  than  any  of  us/'  said  he  to  himself. 
"  He  doesn't  act  that  way  without  some  good 
reason.  I  believe  it  will  pay  to  ask  him  a  few 
questions." 

The  sequel  proved  that  our  hero  had  struck  a 


CONCLUSION.  331 

warm  trail  the  very  first  time  trying.  When  Dan 
found  himself  shut  up  in  the  cabin,  and  Don 
Gordon  standing  between  him  and  the  door  and 
cutting  off  his  only  way  of  escape,  he  became 
terribly  alarmed,  and  confessed  his  guilt  without 
waiting  to  be  questioned.  Scarcely  realizing  what 
he  was  doing,  he  broke  out  into  loud  protestations 
of  innocence,  and  seizing  his  rifle,  which  stood  in 
the  corner  behind  him,  declared  that  he  would 
shoot  the  intruder  if  the  latter  laid  a  hand  upon 
him.  The  threat  was  by  no  means  an  idle  one. 
Dan  fully  intended  to  carry  it  out,  but  fortunately 
for  him  and  all  concerned,  he  had  to  deal  with 
one  who  always  kept  a  level  head  upon  his 
shoulders.  Before  Dan  had  fairly  ceased  speaking, 
Don  sprang  clear  across  the  cabin  with  one  cat- 
like bound,  seized  the  threatening  rifle  with  one 
hand,  laid  hold  of  Dan's  collar  with  the  other, 
and,  bringing  all  his  strength  and  skill  into  play, 
threw  him  to  the  floor  with  the  greatest  violence. 
In  the  struggle  the  rifle  was  discharged,  but  the 
bullet  passed  harmlessly  through  the  roof.  A  low 
seconds  later  some  heavy  body  came  against  the 
door,  which  was  broken  from  its  hinges,  and 
Don's  companions  came  hurrying  in,  expecting 


332  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

to  find  him  wounded  or  dead.  They  did  not  see 
how  it  could  be  otherwise,  for  there  was  not  a 
better  rifle-shot  in  the  settlement  than  Dan 
Evans.  Don  quickly  set  their  fears  at  rest  by 
assuring  them  that  he  was  "  all  right/'  and  at  his 
request  the  boys  went  out  again,  leaving  him 
alone  with  his  captive. 

"Now,  Dan,  what  do  you  know  about  this 
miserable  business  ? "  said  Don,  as  soon  as  his 
friends  had  left  the  cabin.  "  Believe  irre  when  I 
tell  you  that  it  will  be  better  for  you  if  you  tell 
the  truth.  Dave  is  backed  up  by  the  whole 
United  States  government,  and  the  fellows  who 
waylaid  him  are  bound  to  be  captured.  They 
cannot  possibly  escape." 

"I'm  a  hoss  in  the  cane  an'  hard  to  curry," 
replied  Dan  ;  by  which  he  meant  that  he  was  one 
who  could  not  be  easily  conquered.  In  order  to 
prove  the  truth  of  his  assertion,  he  began  strug- 
gling desperately ;  but  Don  seized  him  by  both 
wrists,  and  crossing  his  arms  upon  his  breast 
held  him  as  if  he  had  been  screwed  up  in  a 
vise. 

"  Answer  my  questions  and  then  you  can  get 
up,"  said  Don,  calmly.  "  Refuse,  and  I  will 


CONCLUSION.  333 

take  you  before  my  father,  who  will  put  you 
in  the  calaboose  as  an  accomplice  in  this  rob- 
bery." 

"  Don,"  said  Bert,  thrusting  his  head  in  at  the 
door,  "  Mrs.  Evans  says  that  Dan  has  been  at 
home  all  the  afternoon  ;  so,  of  course,  he  could 
have  had  no  hand  in  stealing  the  mail." 

"No,  I  didn't,  Mr.  Don.  I  sw'ar  I  didn't," 
exclaimed  Dan,  who,  finding  that  resistance  was 
useless,  began  to  shed  tears  copiously.  "I  didn't 
tech  that  thar  mail-bag." 

"  I  haven't  said  that  you  did,"  answered  Don. 
"  But  you  know  who  did  touch  it,  and  I  want 
you  to  tell  me  all  about  it.  Now  be  quick : 
who's  got  it  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  it  must  be  Barlow,"  whined  Dan. 

"  Who's  Barlow  ?  " 

"He's  one  of  the  fellers  who  was  in  your 
shootin'-box  when  you  come  thar  this  mornin'. 
He  lives  in  that  thar  flat-boat  that's  tied  up  to 
the  river  bank." 

"  I  thought  so  from  the  first,"  said  Don  to  him- 
self. "  I  knew  those  vagabonds  would  raise  some 
kind  of  a  row  before  they  left."  Then  aloud,  he 
added  :  "  How  do  you  know  that  they  were  in 


334  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

the  shooting-box  when  I  went  there  this  morn- 
ing?" 

"  Kase  I  was  thar — me  an'  Lester  Brigham." 

"  Lester  Brigham  !  "  repeated  Don. 

"  Yes.  Me  an'  him  goes  huntin'  a'most  every 
day." 

Don  was  profoundly  astonished.  He  told  him- 
self that  Lester  must  be  getting  very  low  down 
in  the  world  if  he  were  willing  to  make  a  daily 
companion  of  so  worthless  a  fellow  as  Dan  Evans. 

"  Well,  this  thing  was  all  cut  and  dried,  wasn't 
it  ?  "  said  he.  "  You  planned  the  robbery,  and 
Barlow  and  his  two  friends  did  the  work.  Was 
that  the  way  of  it  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  plan  nothing"  protested  Dan.  "  Don't 
hold  me  so  tight,  Mr.  Don,  an'  I'll  tell  ye  what's 
the  gospel  truth.  Lester,  he  told  me  that  Dave 
was  bringin'  in  right  smart  of  money  for  his  pap 
every  month,  an'  I  told  Barlow  of  it,  an'  Barlow 
he  said  he'd  like  to  have  some  of  it  so't  he  could 
live  like  rich  folks  do.  That's  all  I  done,  Mr. 
Don,  sure's  yer  born — honor  bright,  an'  hope  to 
die  if  it  aint." 

"  You  didn't  say  anything  to  Barlow  about 
going  halvers  with  you  ?  " 


CONCLUSION.  335 

"  Nary  word,  Mr.  Don.     "  Nary  blessed  word." 

Don  didn't  believe  tbis,  for  Dan  was  almost  too 
earnest  in  bis  denial.  But  be  bad  obtained  a 
clue,  and  that  was  wbat  be  wanted. 

"  Dan,"  said  he,  throwing  all  the  emphasis  he 
could  into  his  words,  "  you  had  better  take  my 
advice  and  stay  right  here  at  home  and  mind  your 
own  business  until  tbis  thing 'is  settled.  You  will 
get  yourself  into  trouble  if  you  don't.  Now  do  as 
you  please." 

So  saying  be  helped  Dan  to  his  feet  and  joined 
his  friends  in  front  of  the  cabin.  He  spoke  en- 
couragingly to  Mrs.  Evans  who  was  sobbing 
violently,  assured  David  that  there  was  no  reason 
why  he  should  be  so  down-hearted,  and  started 
for  his  sail-boat,  followed  by  his  companions. 
Of  course  the  latter  were  full  of  questions.  They 
had  heard  all  that  passed  in  the  cabin,  and  knew 
that  Dan  Evans  and  Lester  Brigbam  were  in  a 
measure  responsible  for  the  robbery  ;  but  what 
hud  put  it  into  Don's  head  to  accuse  Dan  ? 
That  was  something  they  could  not  understand. 

"  Dan  gave  himself  away  by  his  actions,"  said 
Don,  in  explanation.  "That's  the  whole  secret, 
of  the  matter.  But  I  don't  know  what  is  to  be- 


336  DON   GORDON'S   SHOOTING-BOX. 

come  of  those  two  boys.  Lester  can't  get  much 
lower  by  land,  and  as  for  Dan — he'll  end  his  days 
in  the  penitentiary  if  he  keeps  on.  He  meant  to 
shoot  me  to-night ;  I  could  see  it  in  his  eye. 
Now  we'll  go  home  and  tell  father  all  about  it." 

Propelled  by  four  oars  the  sail-boat  moved 
swiftly  through  the  water,  and  at  the  end  of 
twenty  minutes  she* was  made  fast  to  the  jetty, 
and  the  boys  were  on  their  way  to  the  house. 
When  they  reached  the  back  porch  tjiey  found 
three  horses  hitched  there,  and  General  Gordon 
in  conversation  with  the  constable  and  Godfrey 
Evans.  The  latter  was  stamping  about  in  a  great 
rage,  flourishing  his  arms  over  his  head,  and  act- 
ing like  one  demented. 

"  Why,  what  brings  you  boys  here  ?  "  asked 
the  general. 

"We  have  news  for  you,"  replied  Don,  who 
then  went  on  to  give  a  circumstantial  account  of 
the  incidents  that  had  just  transpired  at  Godfrey's 
cabin.  Godfrey  could  hardly  believe  his  ears. 
When  he  learned  that  Dan  was  one  of  the  indirect 
causes  of  the  robbery,  he  jumped  up,  knocked  his 
heels  together  and  uttered  a  yell  that  could  have 
been  heard  a  mile  away. 


CONCLUSION.  337 

"  Gen'ral,"  said  he,  picking  up  his  rifle  which 
he  had  laid  upon  the  porch,  "  I'll  go  hum  an'  take 
the  cowhide  ari'  I'll  larrup  that  thar  hoy " 

"  Calm  yourself,  Godfrey,"  interrupted  the 
general.  "  You  will  only  make  matters  worse  if 
you  do  that.  What  do  you  advise,  Mr.  Ross  ? '' 
he  added,  turning  to  the  constahle. 

"  Is  there  any  way  to  get  Don's  sail-boat  out 
of  the  lake  into  the  river  ?  "  asked  the  officer. 

"Of  course  there  is,"  answered  Don.  "We 
can  row  her  up  the  pass  and  drag  her  over 
the  levee.  She's  heavy,  but  we  have  the  force 
here  to  do  it." 

"Then  my  advice  is,  that  we  find  and 
search  that  house-boat  at  once,"  said  the  con- 
stable. "Mr.  Don,  you  would  make  a  first-rate 
detective." 

The  general  went  into  the  house  to  make  out 
a  search-warrant,  and  the  boys  hurried  back  to 
the  jetty  to  put  the  sail-boat  in  readiness  for  her 
trip  down  the  river.  As  the  mast  had  been 
stepped  that  morning,  the  bowsprit  put  in,  the 
sails  bent  on  and  the  running  rigging  rove,  all 
they  had  to  do  was  to  loosen  the  canvas  and 
select  those  who  were  to  pull  the  oars. 
15 


338      DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"  There's  a  splendid  breeze  on,"  said  Don,  who 
had  never  been  able  to  make  up  his  mind  which 
he  liked  best — sailing,  horse-back  riding,  or  shoot- 
ing. "  It  blows  right  down  the  river,  too. 
We  can't  sail  out  because  the  pass  is  so  nar- 
row ;  but  when  we  get  out  into  the  Missis- 
sippi, will  go  flying.  Now,  then,  why  doesn't 
father  come  ?  " 

The  general  was  making  out  a  warrant  em- 
powering the  constable  to  search  the  house-boat 
when  they  found  it,  and  then  he  lingered  to  un- 
saddle the  horses  which  he  had  brought  out  for 
his  own  use  and  Godfrey's.  When  these  duties 
had  been  performed,  he  and  Godfrey  and  the 
constable  came  down  to  the  jetty  and  took  their 
seats  in  the  sail-boat,  which  was  promptly  pushed 
off  and  headed  up  the  pass.  Half  an  hour 
sufficed  for  the  oarsmen  to  bring  her  to  the 
levee,  over  which  she  was  hauled  without  the 
least  trouble.  Then  came  another  short  stretch 
through  which  she  was  propelled  by  the  oars  ; 
and  as  soon  as  she  was  fairly  out  of  the  pass  and 
began  to  feel  the  force  of  the  v»-ind  and  the  current, 
the  oars  were  drawn  in,  Don  seated  himself  at  the 
helm,  Bert,  with  Fred  and  Joe  Packard's  assist- 


CONCLUSION.  339 

ance,  hoisted  the  sails,  the  sheets  were  let  out  and 
the  pursuit  was  begun. 

"Keep  as  close  in  to  shore  as  you  can,  Don," 
said  Bert.  "It's  pretty  dark,  and  we  may  pass 
her  before  we  know  it." 

"  You  don't  expect  to  see  that  house-boat 
where  you  found  her  this  morning,  do  you  ? " 
said  Don.  "It's  eleven  o'clock,  isn't  it  ?  Well, 
she  is  twenty  miles  down  the  river  by  this  time. 
Keep  a  bright  look-out  for  lights,  everybody. 
We  don't  want  to  let  some  steamboat  run  us 
down  before  we  know  it." 

Although  he  knew  he  was  wasting  time  in 
doing  it,  Don  kept  the  boat  as  close  to  the  bank 
as  he  could  with  safety,  but  nothing  was  to  be 
seen  of  the  piratical  craft  of  which  they  were  in 
search.  When  Bert  announced  that  they  had 
passed  the  place  where  she  had  been  moored  in 
the  morning,  Don  drew  in  the  sheets  a  little,  and 
held  the  boat's  head  diagonally  across  the  river  in 
<  irder  to  strike  the  stronger  current  of  the  channel. 
Tin 'ii  the  sail-boat  began  to  show  the  speed  of 
which  she  was  capable  ;  and  then,  too,  the 
general  enjoined  silence  upon  all  her  occupants. 

"  The  night  is   comparatively  quiet,"  said  he, 


340  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

"and  the  rattling  of  an  oar,  or  a  word  spoken  in  a 
loud  tone  of  voice,  can  be  heard  a  long  distance. 
We  have  one  advantage  over  the  crew  of  that  flat- 
boat  :  we  can  get  out  of  the  way  of  a  steamboat 
and  they  can't ;  so  they  will  have  to  carry  lights 
for  their  protection." 

Under  Don's  skillful  management  the  little 
boat  flew  swiftly  along,  keeping  in  the  channel 
when  her  course  was  clear,  and  making  all  haste 
to  get  out  of  it  as  often  as  the  vigilant  look-out  an- 
nounced that  there  were  lights  ahead.  Two  hours 
passed,  and  nothing  had  been  seen  of  the  flat-boat. 

"  I  reckon  we've  missed  her,"  said  the  constable. 
"  She  has  tied  up  to  the  bank  somewhere,  and  we 
have  run  by  her  in  the  dark." 

"  If  that  is  the  case,  there  is  only  one  thing  we 
can  do,"  said  Don.  "We'll  keep  on  down  the 
river  until  day-light,  and  then  we'll  come  about 
and  beat  back  again,  making  a  close  examina- 
tion of  each  shore.  She  can't  escape  us,  unless 
she  hauls  into  one  of  these  little  bayous  and  gets 
out  of  sight  among  the  bushes." 

"And  if  her  crew  know  the  river  and  are  at 
all  sharp,  that  is  just  what  they  will  do,"  said 
the  constable. 


CONCLUSION.  341 

Just  then  a  deep-toned  whistle  sounded  in  the 
bend  below  them,  and  instantly  the  conversation 
ceased  and  everybody  was  on  the  alert,  and  listen- 
ing with  all  his  ears  to  catch  the  reply.  It  came  at 
length,  but  it  was  not  a  whistle  ;  it  was  a  pro- 
longed blast  from  a  tin  horn.  There  was  a  com- 
motion among  the  boys,  and  their  excitement 
arose  to  fever  heat. 

"  There  she  is,"  said  Bert,  confidently. 

"  Don't  be  too  hasty  in  jumping  at  conclusions," 
said  his  father,  in  a  quiet  tone. 

"  There's  a  flat-boat  in  the  bend  below  us,  and 
I  am  sure  of  it,"  answered  Bert. 

"  So  am  I ;  but  still  it  may  not  be  the  one  we 
want  to  find.  There  is  more  than  one  flat-boat  on 
this  river,  you  know." 

Don  brought  his  boat  close  to  the  wind,  and 
went  scudding  across  the  river  to  get  out  of  the 
steamer's  way.  He  held  well  over  toward  the 
eastern  shore,  and  when  he  stood  off  on  the  other 
tack  the  steamer  had  passed,  and  Bert  announced, 
in  a  low  tone,  that  there  were  lights  straight 
ahead.  They  were  close  to  the  water,  and  the 
sail-boat's  crew  had  but  one  opinion  concerning 
them.  They  belonged  to  a  flat-boat,  but  whether 


342  DON   GOKDOX'S   SHOOTIXG-BOX. 

or  not  it  was  the  one  of  which  they  were  in 
pursuit,  was  a  question  that  only  time  could 
solve. 

"  Lay  us  aboard  of  her  without  any  ceremony/' 
said  the  general.  "  Bert,  stand  by  with  the  boat- 
hook.  We  must  move  quickly,  and  give  them  no 
chance  to  throw  the  mail  overboard,  if  they  have 
got  it." 

Don  kept  the  bow  of  his  little  craft  pointed 
toward  the  flat-boat,  and  so  silently  did  she  move 
through  the  water  that  the  man  who  stood  at  the 
steering-oar,  keeping  a  sharp  look-out  in  front  of 
him,  but  never  thinking  to  look  behind,  was 
entirely  unconscious  of  her  approach.  Presently 
Bert  reached  for  the  boat-hook,  at  the  same  time 
giving  a  nod  that  everybody  understood.  A  few 
minutes  more  would  decide  whether  they  were  on 
the  right  track  or  not.  Bert  stood  up  in  his  place; 
Don,  at  a  sign  from  his  father,  paid  out  the  main- 
sheet  rapidly,  thus  bringing  his  craft  broadside  to 
the  house-boat,  and  just  then  the  man  at  the 
steering-oar  awoke  from  his  reverie  and  turned 
quickly  about. 

"  Keep  away,  there  ! "  he  shouted,  in  great 
alarm.  "  Keep  away,  or  you'll  sink  us." 


CONCLUSION.  .  343 

Don  did  not  want  to  sink  the  house-boat,  but 
he  wanted  to  come  alongside  of  her,  and  he  did  it 
a  moment  later  in  a  very  creditable  manner.  The 
instant  the  two  boats  touched,  General  Gordon 
and  his  party  sprang  over  the  side  and  ran  into 
the  cabin,  some  going  in  at  the  back  door  and  the 
others  at  the  front,  leaving  Don  and  Bert  to  act 
as  grappling-irons,  and  to  keep  the  boats  from 
drifting  apart.  The  man  at  the  steering-oar  was 
captured  by  Egan,  who  stood  guard  over  him 
with  his  double-barrel,  and  Barlow  and  his 
companion,  who  were  busy  in  the  cabin,  were 
covered  by  the  constable's  revolver  and  Godfrey 
Evans's  rifle  before  they  had  time  to  think  of 
their  weapons. 

"This  looks  like  business,"  said  the  officer, 
handing  his  six-shooter  to  Fred  Packard,  and 
drawing  three  pairs  of  handcuffs  from  his  pocket. 

The  others  thought  so  too.  David's  mail-bag 
lay  upon  the  table — he  would  never  carry  it 
again,  for  it  had  been  ruined  by  being  cut  open 
with  a  knife — and  its  contents  were  scattered 
about  over  the  floor  ^nd  in  the  bunks.  The  most 
of  the  letters  had  been  torn  open,  and  the  robbers 
had  reaped  a  very  fair  reward  for  their  trouble, 


344          DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

having  secured  about  forty  dollars  in  greenbacks, 
and  a  check  for  three  hundred  dollars,  drawn  by  a 
country  merchant  in  favor  of  his  creditors  in 
Memphis.  The  general  took  charge  of  the  bills 
und  the  check,  while  the  constable  lost  no  time  in 
putting  the  irons  on  Barlow  and  his  confederate. 

"Where's  the  other?"  said  he.  "There 
ought  to  be  three  of  them." 

"  Here  he  is,"  said  Egan,  who  marched  his 
prisoner  into  the  cabin  and  turned  him  over  to 
the  officer,  at  the  same  time  making  a  sergeant's 
salute,  as  he  would  if  he  had  been  at  the 
academy. 

"I  told  you  jest  how  it  would  be,"  said  the 
steersman,  glaring  savagely  at  Barlow  as  he  felt 
the  cold  handcuffs  clasped  about  his  wrists. 
"  Why  didn't  you  hide,  as  I  wanted  you  to  do, 
instead  of  trying  to  run  ?  " 

"  You  would  have  showed  a  little  more  sense 
if  you  had  done  that,"  said  the  constable,  "  but 
on  the  whole,  we  are  very  well  satisfied.  Now 
keep  still,  all  of  you,"  he  added,  shaking  his 
finger  at  the  women,  who,  having  checked  their 
loud  lamentations,  now  showed  a  disposition  to 
become  abusive.  "  Godfrey,  keep  your  eye  on 


CONCLUSION.  345 

these  men  until  they  are  safe  under  lock  and 
key." 

Godfrey  was  just  the  one  for  this  business. 
There  was  only  one  thing  that  would  have  suited 
him  better,  and  that  was  an  order  to  punch  the 
prisoners'  heads.  For  the  first  time  his  eyes  were 
opened  to  the  fact  that  David  was  a  great  help 
to  the  family,  and  that  the  loss  of  his  position  as 
mail-carrier  would  be  a  serious  blow  to  all  of 
them. 

"  If  me  an'  Dan  would  only  wake  up  an'  stay 
woke  up,  we'd  get  along  well  enough,"  he  said 
to  himself,  as  he  leaned  on  his  long  rifle  and 
looked  thoughtfully  at  the  floor.  "  Dave's  doin' 
his  shar',  an'  me  an'  that  lazy,  good-for-nothin' 
Dan  has  got  to  do  our'n  from  this  day  on  ;  an' 
that's  just  all  thar  is  about  it.  Dan  never  would 
a  thought  of  puttin'  anybody  up  to  robbin'  Dave 
if  he  had  been  to  work,  an'  I'll  see  that  he  has 
plenty  to  do  in  futur',  I  bet  ye." 

While  General  Gordon  and  the  constable  were 
gathering  up  the  mail  and  putting  it  into  the 
bag,  they  had  much  to  talk  about.  They  had 
secured  the  robbers,  and  the  next  thing  was  to 
get  them  back  to  Rochdale.  They  had  about 


346  DON    GORDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX. 

decided  that  they  would  tie  the  house-boat  to  the 
bank  and  take  the  prisoners  up  the  river  in  the 
sail-boat,  when  Curtis  came  in  to  say  that  there 
were  lights  below  them  ;  whereupon  the  general 
picked  up  Barlow's  horn  and  went  out  to  answer 
the  steamer's  signals.  This  having  been  done,  he 
waited  for  her  to  come  abreast  of  the  flat-boat. 
She  proved  to  be  a  large  stern-wheeler  with  a  tow 
of  empty  coal  barges. 

"  Steamer,  ahoy  !  "  shouted  the  general. 

"  Hallo  ! "  responded  a  man  who  was  standing 
on  the  hurricane-deck  near  the  bell. 

"  What  steamer  is  that  ?  " 

"  The  '  B  No.  2 '  of  Pittsburgh 

"  Is  that  you,  Captain  Pratt  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  that  can't  be  you,  Gordon." 

The  general  replied  that  it  was  he ;  and 
upon  receiving  this  reply  the  captain  raised 
his  hand,  the  pilot  rang  the  stopping-bell, 
and  the  steamer's  wheel  hung  motionless  in 
the  water. 

"Why,  Gordon,  what  in  the  world  are  you 
doing  here  at  this  hour  in  the  morning?" 
demanded  the  captain. 

"  Can't  stop   to  explain  now,"    answered  the 


CONCLUSION.  347 

general.  "  Will  you  give  us  a  lift  as  far  as 
Rochdale  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  will.  Can  you  bring  that  tub  of 
yours  alongside  ?  " 

They  could  and  they  did.  The  sails  were  hauled 
down  instantly,  the  oars  were  manned  and  the 
flat-boat  was  hauled  over  and  made  fast  to  the 
stern  of  the  steamer's  tow.  Then  the  general 
went  on  board  the  steamer  to  explain  matters  to 
Captain  Pratt,  while  the  boys  lingered  to  look 
after  the  safety  of  the  sail-boat.  Having  tied  her 
to  one  of  the  barges  so  that  she  would  ride  easily, 
they  followed  the  general  on  board  the  "  B,"  and 
seated  themselves  on  the  quarter-deck  to  talk  over 
the  exciting  events  of  the  night.  Every  one  of 
them  gave  Don  Gordon  great  credit  for  what  he 
had  done.  If  he  had  not  been  sharp  enough  to 
see  guilt  in  Dan  Evans's  face  and  actions,  there 
was  no  knowing  when  the  robbers  would  have 
been  captured. 

"  Young  gemmen,"  said  the  negro  steward, 
"  won't  you  step  into  de  cabin  an'  hab  a  bite 
of  lunch  ?  You  mus'  be  hungry  after  your  long, 
cold  ride." 

The  boys  were  hungry  and  cold,  too,  although 


348       DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

they  did  not  know  it  until  that  moment.  They 
did  ample  justice  to  the  steward's  lunch,  and  also 
to  his  breakfast  which  was  served  at  seven  o'clock. 
At  eight  they  passed  Rochdale,  and  half  an  hour 
later  they  cast  loose  from  the  tow  and  began 
the  work  of  pulling  their  clumsy  prize  and  its 
occupants  to  the  landing. 

The  "  hue  and  cry "  which  the  constable  had 
raised  the  night  before  had  brought  the  loafers 
and  the  neighboring  planters  out  in  full  force, 
and  there  was  a  large  crowd  to  welcome  them  as 
they  went  ashore  with  their  prisoners.  As  there 
was  no  place  in  Rochdale  in  which  the  robbers 
could  be  confined,  the  preliminary  examination 
was  held  at  once,  the  women  being  tried  as  ac- 
cessories. They  all  pleaded  guilty  —  (as  there 
were  ten  witnesses  present  who  could  testify  that 
the  stolen  mail  was  found  in  their  possession,  and 
David  Evans  easily  identified  them  by  their  cloth- 
ing, they  could  not  do  otherwise) — and  half  an 
hour  later  they  were  on  their  way  to  the  county- 
seat,  where  they  were  to  be  kept  in  jail  until  their 
trial  came  off.  When  they  and  their  guards 
were  out  of  sight,  General  Gordon  and  his 
party,  which  included  David  Evans  and  his 


CONCLUSION.  349 

father,  got  into  the  sail-boat  and  started  for  the 
lake. 

"  I  didn't  see  Lester  and  Dan  anywhere,"  said 
Bert,  when  the  sail-hoat  had  been  made  fast  to 
the  jetty,  and  David  and  Godfrey  had  started  for 
home.  "I  wonder  if  they  have  taken  to  the 
woods." 

"  I  should  think  they  would  want  to  go  there 
or  somewhere  else,"  replied  Don.  "  But  if  Judge 
Packard  thinks  their  presence  necessary  when  the 
trial  comes  off,  he  can  easily  find  means  to  make 
them  show  themselves.  Godfrey  won't  sleep 
soundly  until  he  gets  his  hand  on  Dan's  collar. 
That  boy  will  have  to  work  hard  now  to  make 
amends  for  what  he  has  done." 

The  boys  spent  an  hour  or  two  in  the  house, 
giving  Mrs.  Gordon  and  her  daughters  a  graphic 
account  of  their  night's  experience,  and  then  set 
out  for  the  shooting-box,  where  a  cordial  welcome 
and  a  hot  dinner  awaited  them.  Old  Cuff  had 
passed  the  night  in  a  fever  of  suspense  ;  but,  like 
the  faithful  fellow  he  was,  he  stuck  to  his  post, 
and  held  himself  in  readiness  to  defend  the  cabin 
with  the  aid  of  the  hounds  and  a  big  club.  If 
Barlow  and  his  friends  had  tried  to  burn  it,  as 


350  DON   GOEDON'S    SHOOTING-BOX. 

one  of  them  had  threatened  to  do,  they  would 
have  got  themselves  into  business. 

The  incidents  we  have  just  described  were  by 
no  means  the  only  interesting  or  exciting  ones 
that  happened  while  Egan,  Curtis  and  Hopkins 
remained  at  the  shooting-box.  The  boys  shot 
water-fowl  until  they  were  tired  of  the  sport, 
and  frequently  entertained  their  friends,  both 
male  and  female,  who  came  over  to  see  how  they 
were  getting  on.  They  drove  the  ridges  for  deer, 
hunted  wild  turkeys  and  ate  many  a  dinner  of 
quails  that  Hopkins  shot  for  them  over  Don 
Gordon's  pointers.  It  was  a  fortunate  thing  for 
David  Evans  that  Hopkins  got  lost  the  first  time 
he  went  quail  hunting,  for  the  story  he  told  and 
the  results  that  came  of  it,  effectually  silenced 
those  who  had  hoped  to  prove  that  David  stole 
the  mail  himself. 

The  days  flew  on,  and  in  a  short  time — it 
seemed  a  very  short  time  to  all  of  them — Don's 
guests  began  to  talk  of  going  home.  They  all 
dreaded  the  separation,  for  they  had  become  very 
much  attached  to  one  another.  "  But  it  won't  be 
for  any  great  length  of  time,  fellows,"  said  Curtis. 
"  The  members  of  our  happy  family  will  all  come 


CONCLUSION.  351 

together  again  on  the  fifteenth  of  January — all 
except  Fred  and  Joe,  and  I  really  wish  they  were 
coming  too — and  the  next  time  we  go  hunting  it 
will  be  in  the  wilds  of  Maine.  I  can't  promise  that 
we  shall  have  a  chase  after  mail -robbers,  but  I 
may  be  able  to  show  you  a  moose,  and  you 
Southerners  will  have  a  chance  to  try  your  hands 
at  something  that  will  be  entirely  new  to  you — I 
mean  fly-fishing.  We  shall  have  just  enough  of. 
that  to  let  you  see  what  a  five  or  six-pound  trout 
can  do  when  he  makes  up  his  mind  to  fight. 
I  assure  you  that  I  shall  try  by  every  means 
in  my  power  to  make  your  sojourn  with  me 
as  pleasant  as  you  have  made  my  visit  here." 
The  parting  time  came  at  last,  and  the  Gray 
Eagle  took  Don's  guests  up  the  river.  The  four 
boys  they  left  behind  them  were  very  lonely  after 
that.  Don's  first  care  was  to  strip  the  shooting- 
box  and  lock  it.  He  did  not  want  to  go  there 
any  more,  for  there  were  too  many  things  in  it 
that  reminded  him  of  his  absent  friends.  The 
antlers  which  had  been  given  up  to  Egan  for  the 
exclusive  use  of  his  "blunderbuss,"  the  clock- 
bracket  and  wall-pocket  that  Curtis  had  fashioned 
with  his  knife,  the  camp-chair  which  had  given 


352  DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING-BOX. 

away  with  a  great  crash  and  let  Hopkins  down 
upon  the  floor — all  these  spoke  eloquently  of  the 
days  that  were  gone,  and  Don  could  hardly  endure 
the  sight  of  them.  Of  course  this  feeling  of  lone- 
liness wore  away  after  a  while,  and  the  brothers 
enjoyed  themselves  during  the  holidays  as  they 
always  did  ;  but  when  the  time  came  for  them  to 
return  to  Bridgeport,  they  were  ready  and  wait- 
ing. 

Their  second  year  at  the  academy  proved  to  be 
an  eventful  one.  Some  things  happened  which, 
like  the  night  attack  of  the  Mount  Pleasant 
Indians,  were  not  down  on  the  programme  ;  and 
what  they  were,  and  how  Don  and  Bert  behaved 
themselves  at  school,  what  they  saw  and  what 
they  did  for  amusement  when  they  went  home 
with  Curtis  at  the  close  of  the  term,  shall  be  told 
in  "  THE  ROD  AND  GUN  CLUB." 


THE    END. 


THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


15o~TT 


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L  009  505  68C 


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